Winchester vs O'Sulivan
by geeves
Summary: Her main goal: driving Dean crazy. Can she help it if it's so much fun?
1. Chapter 1

I know I already have a fic on the go, but this one was just begging to be written. Cal got into my head and, well you just don't mess with the girl once she's made up her mind.

Disclaimer: As usual I don't own anything even remotely supernatural. Generally the stuff scares the crap out of me. For some reason though when the Winchesters are around it's not so bad… lol

Warnings: I doubt there are any spoilers. This one came straight from my twisted little mind. There's the usual little bit of swearing, and Cal gives Dean a run for his money… nothing worse than the usual stuff I write though.

Please, please, please review/critique/feedback… anything you want to say about this fic send my way… I love the responses almost as much as I love the writing itself and the critique's only make my writing better. Oh, and thanks for taking the time to read this. Hope you like it!

Winchester vs O'Sulivan (Dean my boy, what have you gotten yourself into _this _time?)

_**Chapter 1**_

After half an hour in the bathroom she'd stepped out looking like something Dean usually chased after in local pubs, bars and pool halls on the road. A silky looking black blouse with absolutely no back on it loosely wound its way from the back of her neck, over all the important stuff and ignored all of the not so important stuff. It stopped just below her navel, and hung off of her like some sort of exotic curtain. The damned thing left just enough to the imagination to make it worth anyone's while who cared to look at her.

She wore her hair down and it fell it soft brown waves down to just below her shoulders. Gold and red natural highlights caught and shone in the light of the dingy motel room. A pair of dark jeans caressed long legs that went on forever and ended with strappy sandaled little feet. She wore no makeup, and didn't need it. Any type of paint on her face would have taken away from her incredibly blue eyes. If he didn't know any better they would have almost seemed innocent. Wait no… the clothes and the cocky little smile on her pouty lips would have been enough to tip him off. Cal was a lot of things all right and none of them innocent. One short round of poker had been enough to learn that little lesson.

She looked so damned good it was almost criminal and as far as Dean was concerned it should have been. Always the first one with something smart to say, he just couldn't help the comment that came out of his mouth. "Jesus, all you're missing is the spandex skirt to take _that_ outfit where it belongs."

"Sorry hun, I don't do spandex. Too eighties for my tastes." She looked good and she knew it. Oh she was _all _sass and on top of it all she was picking on the things he liked best again. It was driving him more than a little crazy. So the hell what if he liked Metallica and Black Sabbath? As far as he was concerned 'mullet rock' was the only music worth listening to. Sure his clothes are a little dated… they were comfortable though, and they were perfect for hunting. He had to be doing something right, he never had any problems picking up when he wanted to. As for the car… well the comment she'd made earlier had just been uncalled for. His baby was a classic. Eighties, schmeighties… she was just jealous of his awesome Metallicar.

And all that aside, how the hell were they supposed to protect her when she insisted on leaving the motel dressed like… like some pool hall floozy? Little miss bad-girl Slayer had gotten in over her head and needed their help to get out of it. Demon slayer huh? He doubted it. _If _there even _were_ such things she'd have to have more sense than that to be one. Those clothes were not exactly the 'blending in' kind that were necessary for people to feel comfortable talking around you like you weren't even there. They weren't going to get anything accomplished tonight except finding Cal something to help her scratch an itch. He didn't hesitate to put his thought into words either. It was just insulting.

"Oh, so you're above spandex but you'll put that thing on and let it show you off all your assets all the way down to your belly button?" On any one else Dean would have considered it a work of art…truly. On Cal it did nothing but annoy the hell out of him. He didn't know whether to wipe his chin or avert his eyes.

"What this old thing?" she asked coyly. "It's just a little something I picked up for just such an occasion…I mean, we are hitting the nightlife tonight right? Hunting recon?" The incredulous look he gave her made her want to laugh. It was just too easy to get a rise out of the boy… this was almost as fun as beating him at his own fixed poker game the night before. She didn't know why he was so surprised… a girl had to make a living right? She had a couple of tricks up her sleeve…A girl had to take care of herself, didn't she? That hundred she'd taken off his hands yesterday certainly would help her do that, she thought to herself with a Cheshire cat grin.

"A little less of that thing you're trying to wear sweetheart and it'll disappear entirely." Ha, who did he think he was kidding? This was her best cruising blouse. It had _never_ failed her. Not once. She was getting to him and she was really enjoying it.

"What's the matter Dean, never seen skin before?"

He sputtered at that a little before recovering with a wisecrack. She had him off balance and he hated it. "Oh, I've seen my fair share… doesn't mean I'm just going to sit back and let you go out like _that_. I mean there's showing a little skin and then there's just plain indecent."

"Um Dean…I hate to point this out but you tend to lean toward the indecent ones yourself." Sam just couldn't resist putting his two cents in. 'Hate to point it out' he says… yeah right. The smirk his little brother couldn't hide told Dean just exactly how much Sam really was enjoying this little scene.

"Just shut up Sam. You are _not _helping."

"Ooh, Sam hit a nerve there did he?" Caitlin O'Sullivan, half Irish, half French Canadian and fifth generation demon hunter did not back down for anyone. If Cal wanted to wear her slinky little number she darned well would. There was absolutely nothing Dean Winchester, ladies man extraordinaire, could say to change her mind about it. Of course that didn't mean she wouldn't have a little fun playing with him in the process. That had been the reason she'd picked that particular blouse in the first place

Dean was really starting to hate the stubborn set to her jaw that had impressed him so much when they'd first met twenty four hours earlier. Back then it had been directed at the spirit they'd been trying to kill… the one she'd held off while he and Sam finished the salt and burn of its old decaying bones. The tip of the fresh scar peeked out from behind the scrap of black silkiness just next to her belly button. She'd really held her own, but they'd had to save her ass then too. The girl was an accident prone ticking time bomb.

Now after all that he couldn't believe she was giving him 'I won't back down' over something stupid like a practically non-existent blouse. Blouse. Right. Sure, if you could even call it that More like a wide ribbon…Oh, and let's not even start on the jeans… good God if they were any more form fitting they'd be painted on! They'd be beating off the sleaze bags with their pool cues. If they were lucky the night wouldn't end in a brawl. There would be no information gleaning tonight. On top of it all, he wouldn't be able to have any fun himself. Man, tonight was really going to suck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The bar was just another variation of the usual local entertainment. Men in many shades of rough lounged pretty much everywhere. Women in very little clothing hung off the bar and the men. There was one like it in pretty much every small town the boys had ever passed through. It was a scene Dean was familiar with, felt almost at home in.

Round wooden tables were scattered around in the dim room. The bar stretched itself all along the one wall at the back. A huge mirror stretched from one wall to the other behind the bar, calling attention to the impressive stock pile of bottles of alcohol that were lined up in rows on the counter before it. Three or four pool tables and a dart board in one corner of the room were surrounded by a respectable sized group of young men and women. That was where he gravitated. There would be a paycheck in that corner… and possibly a 'friend' for the night.

Alcohol and music flowed as freely as the women and the pick up lines. Dean couldn't help but smile. This was definitely what he'd needed. He all but forgot Cal as he sauntered toward the bar and his first bottle. The red head who was tending bar gave him a wink and a smile along with the beer. She all but devoured him with her eyes as he took his first long swallow…hmm, maybe the night wouldn't be as bad as he thought…

Cal had refused to be seen entering the bar with him. After his pig-headed response to her clothes she didn't want the man anywhere near her, especially at the bar. Besides, she liked to make an entrance. She couldn't achieve the head-turning effect she wanted with big brooding Dean glaring daggers at anything male that chanced a glance her way. So she'd stayed behind in the car to 'fix-her-makeup'. She wasn't wearing any of course. Wait, does lip gloss count? It did when she took her sweet-ass time applying it.

He'd argued her black and blue of course. Mostly because he didn't trust her alone in his little black car… what he saw in the darned thing she'd never understand. Her own little red '96 Mustang convertible was so much prettier to look at than his old hunk of junk…Sleek, modern and above all quiet. Okay, quiet-_er…_

Anyway, she'd finally agreed to let Sam stay behind with her. Honestly there hadn't been much point. She's a big girl. She can take care of herself and had been doing it for quite a few years now. Still, Dean was a bit of a mother hen. Or maybe it was caveman? Whatever. The point is a girl asks for a little help with a demon issue and suddenly she's a damsel in distress. Ha! She does damsel in distress like she does spandex skirts. Of course the whole needy female bit was working to her advantage at the moment so Cal decided that she'd let it slide for a little while.

She waited just long enough to be sure Dean was settled in the bar. The theory was that he'd be distracted enough by the bimbo of the moment not to notice the heads turn her way when she walked through the door. Playing bimbo was great for intel. Especially when you're sitting in a large group of men. They dote all over the girl all night long to keep her attention, and they assume she's an airhead so they talk as freely as if she weren't even there. Free booze, her pick of men and all the latest gossip. It was awesome. This was going to be a really great night.

"Sweet Jesus, look at that!" It was a hushed whisper of reverence. Dean hadn't even heard the jingle of the door opening when she came in. He'd just started to hustle the guy he was playing pool with and was really into the game when he'd heard the whisper. The macho-cowboy type had stood frozen at the sight of her. All the men in the room had. Scruffy looking pervs, the lot of 'em. But hey, if she wanted to parade around half naked then that was fine by him. That meant that the ladies in the bar would need a little more attention… something he was more than willing to supply them with. Who knew? Maybe Sammy would give a little fun a go for a change too.

She strutted her stuff all the way to the bar and a string of men trailed in her wake. She ordered a beer in a smoky voice that was all but drowned out with sandpapery voices asking for it to be put on their bill. Sam took that moment to sneak past the group and make a hasty retreat to Dean's corner. "She's as bad as you are, you know that don't you?" he asked his brother wryly. "Oh Sammy, I'm not bad. I'm just drawn that way." He grinned mischief and sent another wink to the bartender before setting up his next shot on the table. Sam just rolled his eyes and sat down.

It didn't take long for things to settle down. Dean was working a hustle and started raking it in at the pool tables while Annie sat prettily, flirting with beefcake after beefcake. He tried to pretend he was okay with it all. It actually wasn't as bad as he'd expected… at least not right away. Sam sat in the corner nursing just the one beer. He didn't need a vision to foresee how the night would end. A storm was brewing and he wanted to be clear headed so he could haul his two hot-heads out of there when it hit.

You see, the thing about Cal O'Sullivan is that she never did anything halfway. It was go big, or go home all the way for that girl and Dean had yet to learn that lesson. He would soon enough though. A lot sooner than any of them expected.

The storm head came in the shape of the two-hundred eighty pound macho-cowboy. He'd been buying Cal drink after drink for the better part of the last three hours. Must've spent close to a hundred dollars on her. When the intel started getting stale, she decided she was tired of him and walked away to join the Winchester boys. You know, play a little pool and hustle a share of Dean's winnings from him before they went back to the motel. It had been too long since the last time she'd annoyed him. A whole hour at least. Yep, definitely too long.

Cal had been so busy plotting the demise of Dean's winnings as she got up from the table she didn't even notice Macho-man getting up too. Suddenly the pointy-booted mammoth was towering over her and looking plenty pissed off. "Where d'you think you're goin' sugah? We were just gettin' t'know each other." He reeked of booze, butts and something nasty sour. Why hadn't she noticed this before? Wrinkling her nose delicately at the onslaught she arched her brow at him and dragged out the sass she normally reserved for a particularly pig-headed hunter.

"Oh, hun, I hate to disappoint you but I think I've gotten to know _quite_ enough of you. Period." Big fuzzy caterpillar eyebrows shot his bony, caveman-like brow at the surprise. This was a man who wasn't used to hearing 'no'. "Really? Ya think so? Well, I beg to differ." He said grabbing hold of her wrist and squeezing hard. Looked like he didn't get 'no' because he was used to just taking whatever he wanted whether it was his or not. She was insulted he'd even consider trying it.

Sam saw the giant move, saw him stand in Cal's way and watched him put his hands on her. It happened so fast he didn't even have the time to blink. Didn't want to either. He'd seen what she could do to a spirit… and to his brother. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. It was going to be one hell of a show. He actually felt bad for 'He-Man', the guy didn't stand a chance.

Dean had been practically lying on the pool table, trying to get the eight ball into the corner pocket for the benefit of the bartender. The looks she'd been giving him all night could have melted icebergs. They sure were warming him up nicely. Unfortunately when he looked up to judge the effect it'd had on her, he caught sight of the Incredible Hulk grabbing at Cal's wrist. Then all he could see was red.

"Listen, um… what was your name again? Oh, never mind. I'll just call you tall, dark and smelly." She smiled sweetly watching as the insult sunk in. His face went from ugly pro-wrestler red to angry bull maroon before she gave him his warning. "So dude, where I come from when a girl says she's done with you she walks away. I think you'd best let me do that if you value your health."

She'd had enough of this crap already. It was time for him to give it up or get his ass kicked. What the hell, right? Who was she to pass up the opportunity to break in her new strappy sandals? And what better way then to do that than by taking this hulk down a notch or two?

"Oh, I don't think so darlin'. Y'see, you're comin' home with _me _tonight. So let's go already." His mistake had been letting go of her wrist to try and grab her by the waist. That had been Dean's mistake the day before too. Sam popped another peanut in his mouth as he watched the scene unfold.

The moment his big meaty hand had let go of her wrist she swung her free hand up in a tight fist connecting it with the soft underside of his jaw. His head snapped hard to the side and blood poured out of his newly split lip. "Lady, you done just pissed me off." He growled at her and lunged. She stepped to the side just fast enough for him to soar right past her and into one of the empty tables like a rampaging bull at the sight of a red cape.

"Baby, I am no lady." She said rubbing her hands on her jeans. One last look at the satisfying mess she'd made of the guy and she turned her back on him and headed toward the pool tables again.

Cal had been positive she'd knocked him out cold otherwise she'd never have turned her back on him. So when she felt the none too gentle finger tapping her on the shoulder as she walked away she really wasn't expecting it. The element of surprise was the _only _reason he'd managed to haul her ass over his shoulder.

She'd been about to let out a very unflattering stream of insults as a prelude to physically making him put her down when she heard a very familiar, very angry voice. "Put. Her. Down." Only Dean Winchester could turn three normally harmless words into a threat on your life.

Cal may annoy the hell out of him but she'd asked him for help. He'd been raised a warrior, a protector of the weak and innocent. Though he very seriously doubted she was either, he would not stand idly by as some jerk tried to haul her away. A gallant gesture right? He sure thought so. She on the other hand… not so much.

"Dean." It wasn't his name, is was a warning to back off. "I've got this." She told him from her position on the Lone Rider's shoulder. "You heard the gal, tough guy. She's got me. So get lost already." Dean just glared menacingly. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size He-Man?" "What? Like you, small fry?"

The thing with tall, muscled beefcakes is that they're not too quick on the uptake. The same could be said about slightly shorter, smart-assed Winchester men who couldn't keep their noses out of other people's business… but that was beside the point.

The beefcake made his second mistake of the night insulting Dean, and his last and final mistake when he put Cal down to take care of business. Also with Dean. But not before the last and final insult to Cal. "You stay put little lady. I'll be back for you as soon as I take care of the pipsqueak." Then turned his back on her to get to Dean.

Rule number one: Do not piss of a girl. It never ends well. They hold grudges that last far beyond a fist fight and a few beers. Rule number two: Do not turn your back on said girl once you've effectively pissed her off. You will regret it. Cowboy sure did.

One swift kick and her foot connected with something sensitive from behind that brought Cowboy to his knees. She'd told Dean she had this one. Did he listen? Of course not. He just had to get a money shot in once the guy was down. She'd had enough of the damsel in distress crap. It's about time Dean learned she ate guys like Cowboy for breakfast.

So she played dirty and grabbed the first thing handy which just happened to be a half full bottle of beer. In true bar brawl fashion she smashed it over Cowboy's head and ended the night for him once and for all. Then as she caught the red-headed bartender's eye "You'd better call this guy a cab. He's just had one too many." Cal called out to her. Funny, the redhead didn't look too impressed although Cal couldn't figure out for the life of her why…

Dean practically had smoke coming out of his ears he was so mad. "What the hell was that?" "I told you I had the guy Dean." He looked to Sam to back him up but found nothing but a helpless shrug. "Sweetheart, I don't know what fight _you _were watching but in the one _I _saw He-Man there had _you. _Remember? If I hadn't stepped in when I did you'd be on your way to the farm to be his little plaything right now."

Oh, that was the last straw. _She _was the one who had taken the guy down. All _Dean_ had done was distract the asshole. The one punch he _had _thrown had been after she had done all the work. She didn't think, she acted… and firmly connected her closed fist with Dean's face.

And that is how Dean Winchester ended up on his ass in the middle of a trashed bar with the beginning of a very nice black eye swelling up half of his face. His little brother was laughing hysterically behind him and the girl who had decked him a good one glaring at him ungratefully.

He had been right on three counts. Tonight sucked harder than he could have possibly imagined. They had not managed to gather any useful information. And Caitlin O'Sullivan was straight-jacket/padded room crazy.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3**_

"Well I don't know about you guys, but I had a _great_ time tonight." Cal sighed happily as she stretched out in the back seat of the Impala. Dean sat hunched in the front passenger seat with an ice pack on one side of his face and a scowl on the other. "Yeah, I'll bet you did She-Ra. You and your wicked left went right to town tonight didn't you?" He turned just enough to glare at her over the edge of the seat without disturbing the ice pack that Sam had found for him before they left the bar. Even that little bit of movement was enough to pull a groan out of him.

_She _of course had only laughed. "Hey, what can I say? I'm a scrapper. But dude, you both had it coming. The both of you were acting like cavemen. What's a girl to do? I had to draw the line somewhere." Dean gave Sam a look that asked 'Is this chick for real?' "Dude, we are _never_ taking her out again. _Ever._" "Like you even have a say in the matter Dean. You're just pissed because I bruised your big testosterone filled ego." Oh she was a quick one alright. She'd bruised a whole lot more than his ego tonight too. Just thinking about that side of his face made it burn and throb painfully. If it wasn't for the fact that she pissed him off so much, on purpose mind you, she might even remind Dean of himself.

Sam must've read his mind. "I don't know Dean, I had a lot of fun tonight. Cal reminds me of you… only, you know… um, nicer and, uh… prettier." Oh, for the love of…"Sam! I'm sitting in the passenger seat of my own car…which I can't drive. Why? Because of the ice on my face and the swelling underneath it… and now you're _insulting_ me? Unbelievable!" Cal snorted at him from the back seat. Who knew Big Bad Dean was so sensitive? Oh, wait… that's right! She did. Heehee, it was just too easy.

"I'm just saying…" Dean knew exactly what Sam was saying. It wasn't true. Sure, he liked to have a little fun sometimes. Okay, a lot of the time. When he needed help though, he asked for it and if he couldn't ask he took it when it was offered. Unlike She-Ra in the back seat he did not assault the people who lent him a hand in sticky situations.

"Yeah, yeah. I know exactly what you're going to say. But before you do Sam I'd like to remind you that the little scene _she _caused back there was why the bartender called the cops. I mean, we ran out of there and we _still _just barely missed 'em. I didn't even get her number man…" there was a note of genuine regret in that last statement.

Sexy redheads aside, there was no way they were going to be able to stay at the motel tonight. They'd have to drive clear across the state line just to avoid being pulled over. The Impala isn't exactly 'blending in with the locals' material. A little ironic considering the evening started with a 'discussion' along those lines about a certain scrap of cloth that was currently being passed off as a blouse. Sam didn't say anything. He just kept driving, a great big grin plastered all over his face. Who cared about one night without beds? He'd been suffering Dean's teasing his whole life. One uncomfortable night on the road was definitely worth watching the spitfire in the backseat give it right back to him for a change.

That's right big brother, Cal's the reason we're not going to be in soft warm beds tonight. Isn't it great? He didn't dare say the words aloud but they were there in the air between them all the same. Sam knew what would come next too. Retaliation. Only for once he would be a spectator watching the game as it played out. He almost felt sorry for Dean… almost, but not quite.

He couldn't take it. Sam's wide grin and Cal's satisfied smirk… God he wished he could be the one behind the wheel of his baby. At least then he could ignore the two of them and concentrate on the rolling black asphalt before them. He doubted there was any way he could turn the night around and salvage it. At least not until he started thinking about it… once the wheels started turning in that upstairs brain of his Dean Winchester could be pretty darned creative. Especially in the face of boredom and payback.

Knowing she hated the music Dean fished a tape out of the box on the seat beside him. 'That's right baby' he thought to himself when he saw the grimace on her face as the music started. Metallica was playing loud and proud on the stereo of his Metallicar. That the song was 'On the Road Again' was fitting to say the least. Oh, there were plenty of ways for payback… and he didn't have to lay a finger on her for any of them. Yep, it was going to be an _awfully _long ride for She-Ra back there. He would see to it personally.

Cal would never admit to it but the soft and somewhat evil chuckle that came from the front seat made her just a little uneasy. She wasn't worried though. If he wanted to dish it out then she said bring it on. There were more than a few tricks left up her sleeve.

She got tired of Metallica about three songs into the tape. Dean could tell by the way she kept rolling her eyes from one end of the car to the other. By song five she looked like she was ready to claw her way out of the car through the back seat. The corners of his mouth curled smugly. God it was satisfying to get back at that girl!

Good Lord, it just went on and _on_. He'd flipped the tape over twice already and it looked like he was about to do it again. Ugh! Why? _Why_ did he have to pick Metallica of all things? AC/DC would have been okay, maybe even Motorhead but nooo, it was the one band she hated more than Barbie dolls and anything pink. Metallica. Damn!

Dean Winchester was purposefully pissing her off. What she wouldn't give to wipe that smug little smile that had worked its way onto his face right the hell off of it. Right, make that half his face, heh heh. Well at least _that_ was something to smile about.

He was right, of course. She and her fists certainly had gone to town tonight. Okay, so maybe she'd been showing off a little… A girl had to have a little fun on occasion though, right? All work and no play make Cal a really cranky girl. Nothing was more fun that annoying Dean of course. Bar brawling came in close second though, and putting a guy in his place when he'd crossed the line was definitely an added bonus. Getting Dean angry was like eating chocolate… she just couldn't get enough. That look that he got, the one that made him look like he'd tasted something really _really _awful, it was just priceless. Got her every time.

She wasn't too fond of being called She-Ra though. Okay, so She-Ra's the 'Princess of Power'. She supposed it could be taken as a compliment, albeit a strange one. Who the heck wanted to be a princess anyway? Certainly not Cal. She was so not the tiara wearing type. And did the title come with cash? Heck no! At least not unless you counted the money she made hustling Dean. The man would keep her in chocolate forever as long as he didn't wise up to her cheating.

The beginning of 'On the Road Again' pulled her out of happy thoughts. "Oh, for the love of…" she mumbled grumpily to herself "Dean! Change the damn tape already!" And that's exactly what he'd been waiting for. Dean Winchester let out all the laughter that had been building for the better part of the last couple of hours. "I'm really sorry to break it to you babe but my car means my tunes!" he said and then started singing along with it, mercilessly butchering what Cal already considered a horrible, horrible song.

Sam watched her in the rear view mirror trying hard not to laugh too. The last thing he wanted was to turn her wrath away from Dean and onto himself. God those two were entertaining when you put them together! Between the music and the singing Cal was getting more and more frustrated by the second. Her face went from bright pink to a dark mottled red in under thirty seconds. When it finally changed to a funny shade of purple he knew he'd have to do something to diffuse the situation. Otherwise Dean might end up with more than a black eye… like two of them, or a broken jaw. Her face had been that exact shade of purple the night before when she'd kneed him for getting 'fresh' with her. He wanted to laugh so hard that there were tears in his eyes from holding in it.

"Damn it Dean, if you don't change that stupid tape for something else I'm going to reach over there and pull it out myself! And I'll send it flying right out the freaking window!" she threatened. "Like I said: my car, my tunes babe. You don't like it to damn bad for you." If the man were any closer to being six years old he'd be sticking his tongue out at her. That's it. She'd reached her limit. The tape was as good as road kill. Sam saw her brace herself, getting ready to lunge at the tape deck. That's when he finally decided to break it up.

One hand on the wheel and the other reaching into the tape box he pulled out something different. "Sam, what the heck are you doing?" "Oh, just following the house rule Dean." Sam answered innocently. Dean was not going to like having _that_ one thrown back in his face but it was really going to be worth it! He had Cal's attention too. Curious, she sat back again having obviously decided to sit back and watch whatever was about to happen play out. Sam never touched the tape box, he preferred the radio when he was driving.

"House Rule? What's that supposed to mean?" The kid had Dean confused. Good move Sam. Of course she should have known he'd have slick moves, he'd grown up with the pig-headed mule. "You know what I'm talking about Dean." Oh, he's so not going to do it… he wouldn't dare! But Sam really was: "Um, yeah. You know… the house rule: Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole." And with those words Sam ejected the hated Metallica from the tape deck and popped in his own tape, something that so far he'd managed to keep his intentions for hidden. It was a tape he'd lifted from the Hell Hounds Lair boys a few months back, right after Dean had peppered his underwear with itching powder. The thing about payback with his big brother was that it was all about the timing. If you wanted to get the guy, you had to catch him off guard. This was definitely going to be good.

Seconds later Britney Spears little voice started streaming from the speakers singing 'Hit me Baby One More Time". A genuine smile spread slow and wide across Annie's features and lit up her eyes. Oh yeah, now that's what she was talking about. Right there. Pure freaking genius. He wouldn't be able to keep it up long, or else _she _might have a thing or two to say about it. Still, a few minutes of the pop princess from hell was worth a front row seat to Dean's reaction.

"No. No. Sammy, damn it! Definitely not. Not in my car. Not now, not _ever_!" Mortification, total and complete mortification. How could Sam possibly believe he would be okay with this? "What's that Dean? Can't hear you… music's too loud!" and with that Sammy turned it up a notch or two higher. Aww! Aw! He _knew_ that would come back and bite him in the ass one day.

"Oh I have so had enough of this crap." Of course, no one heard Dean say the words because the music really _was_ too loud. With a determined look at both his brother and Cal singing at the top of their lungs to the crap he reached over and shut the stereo off. He didn't know what was worse. The fact Sam actually knew the words to the damned song, or the migraine that had suddenly reached brain explosion proportions. To think that his baby was being subjected to this garbage. His poor car… his poor head.

Sam had known it would be short lived. Dean wouldn't let Britney in his car for very long. Still, he kept right on smiling that smile of his that could brighten the night sky if it wanted to. Cal on the other hand was not ready to let it go that easily. "What did you shut it off for? That's probably the only decent tunage this poor car has ever heard." She just kept pushing, and pushing…

"Can it Cal." It was Dean's 'don't mess with me' tone. The one that threatened death to anyone who crossed him. Cal was not impressed by it. "The hell I will."

"Sam, pull over." Dean was through with this chick. In the last twenty-four hours he'd been kneed in the nuts for saving her from a spirit, he'd been called a pipsqueak and a small fry by the steroid cowboy from hell, he'd saved her life twice and had finally been given a black eye and a nasty headache for all his trouble. All because of one Caitlin O'Sulivan. To top it all off she was a terrible influence on Sam. He would never have _dared _Britney Spears in the Impala before the devil's spawn came along. Dean didn't care how far back their fathers went or how deep in trouble she was, there was no way he was putting up with _Her_ anymore.

As soon as Sam had stopped the car Dean was outside, pulling the passenger seat aside for Cal to climb out. "All right She-Ra, your ride ends here. Get out." "What? But Dean, we're supposed to be helping her out." "Yeah, we are. But little miss sunshine here won't let us and quite frankly I'm done getting the crap beaten out of me by a girl." He pinned Cal with a look designed to kill. "Out. Now."

"You're joking right? The great Dean Winchester is going to kick a girl out of his car and leave her on the side of the road? All because of a little chick music that I, by the way, had absolutely nothing to do with." Finally, he had her attention! Well that was all well and good. Maybe it would help him get her out of his car. "That's right. So what are you waiting for? Out of the car."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4**_

"No."

One word. All it took was one word for Dean to lose his cool.

He didn't yell or shout or storm around. No, Dean Winchester got very quiet and very cold. "All right." The words were a statement, she just didn't know what they meant. At least not until he tossed the icepack onto the front seat next Sam and reached into the back seat for her.

She tried to fight him off. Tried kicking and screaming at him. She would have hit him a good one again, but he was already beyond angry. Wouldn't do her much good to make things worse, would it? With single-minded determination he managed to get an arm under her knees and another behind her back. Once that was accomplished he physically lifted her right out of the car.

Now Cal felt full force what ego had earlier forced her to deny. During her two rounds with the big smelly cowboy at the bar earlier she had opened up the gash on her belly again. She'd managed to cover it up with a bit of gauze and tape at the motel when they'd stopped off to collect their gear. Luckily the blouse hid that particular spot long enough for her to move her stuff into the car without being found out. Now though, with the force of fighting off her very angry protector, the gauze fell off. Blood started oozing out and quickly soaked right through her blouse. Thank god it was black or else he would have seen it already. If he didn't put her down soon it would start to soak right into his t-shirt too though, and would show up all too well on the crisp white. Dude was already angry… She didn't want to know what his reaction would be to finding out she'd been hiding something from them.

The cut had been deeper than she had let the Winchester boys believe. When the spirit had knocked her off her feet and tossed the knife she'd been holding at her it had been a struggle just to get out of the way. She'd rolled but had still been caught by the blade. One look at it and she knew she'd need stitches. She was perfectly capable of performing first aid… just not on herself. Blood, guts and gore were fun stuff until she saw her own. Then it reminded her that she really was a girl. A human one at that. There was no way around it: one of the boys would have to do the stitching for her.

One look at Dean and she knew she couldn't let him do it. He was one of her very few weaknesses and she could only handle one of those at a time. He had that worried-hero, protector-of-the-innocent look to him and she knew she would crack under it if she wasn't careful. That wouldn't do of course. He'd never let her live it down. She'd forever be 'the girl' in his eyes after that.

So when he went from macho to gentle in less than fifteen seconds she'd had no other choice. Kneeing him in the nuts and accusing him of hitting on her had been her only option… at least the only one she could think of on such short notice. What? She'd been careful not to hit him _too_ hard. After all, she may have use of him later, when things settled down and her business had been taken care of.

It had been hard, keeping them distracted long enough to cover it up. Now though, she wasn't sure she'd be able to hide it anymore. It was bleeding a whole lot more than it had the night before. Luckily his anger worked to her advantage. He noticed nothing beyond the accomplishment of his goal: getting her out of his car.

"Pop the trunk Sammy!" he grunted as he set Cal down on her feet. Knowing better than to argue with him when he got that way, Sam did as his brother asked. Dean was pulling open the lid of the trunk even as the click sounded when it unlocked. He hauled out her backpack and her duffel bag and tossed them on the ground at her feet. "So that's it then? You're going to leave me on the side of the road, just like that?" Maybe it was shock from the severity of her injury but she was feeling just a wee bit breakable at the moment. Maybe even a little needy. Not that she'd _ever _admit it.

"Yup, that's right." He didn't even look at her, just climbed right back into the passenger seat and lay back with the ice pack on his face again. "Fine. I'll call myself a cab and go pick up my 'Stang. Who the hell needs you anyway? I should have known better last night that to ask _you _for help." Sam wanted to tell her he was sorry. He wanted to tell her to call him if she needed anything. Dean made it impossible though. He'd popped Metallica back into the tape deck. "Let's go Sam, I'm through wasting time."

Sam did the only thing he could do: put the car in drive and watched in the rear view mirror as Cal's reflection got smaller and smaller.

She waited until they were out of sight to sit down, preferring to glare mercilessly at the car as her nemesis drove away. When she did sit though it hit her how desperate her situation had become. There was a vampire out there somewhere. A very persistent vampire who had caught her scent and had plans for her that she did not agree with.

There had been safety in numbers with Sam and Dean. There had been safety even just riding in an unrecognizable car. Now though, she was sitting with her bags on the shoulder of the interstate and loosing blood fast. She was a sitting duck. If Earl was anywhere within a hundred miles he'd be able to pick up her scent. Cal had to get moving, and fast.

Of course that would mean getting up, hauling her bags over her shoulder and walking to the nearest roadside pit-stop to call a cab. Right now she could barely keep her eyes open. There was something warm and wet working its way down the leg of her jeans… funny, it wasn't raining… Her battle with consciousness lost she slumped over and slid down the rest of the way from her bags to the ground.

Dean spotted the motel about twenty minutes drive after leaving Cal on the side of the road. "Dude, pull over. I just found us some beds."

They had just barely checked in and the arguing had already begun.

"I can't believe you man. That girl is in serious trouble and you just left her there on the side of the highway." "Yeah and good riddance too. One more run-in with that chick and I'd have wound up in the hospital again." "You're unbelievable Dean. Did you even bother to think about what's going to happen when the vampire catches up with her again? I mean, she'll be lucky if she even _makes it_ to a hospital." Sam was worried, Dean could tell. He knew that just leaving her there had been a rotten thing to do… he was just so damned tired and sore. Cal just kept pushing at him. Kicking him when he was down. He hadn't known what else to do. She needed to learn to give a guy some down time to recover from the shock of her.

Besides, knowing that girl he'd only have a couple of hours rest before she'd be knocking down the motel door, ready to do him bodily harm _again_.

He was rubbing distractedly at the wet spot the ice pack had left on his shirt, trying to think of a way to put what he was thinking into words. He needed Sammy to understand why he'd done it.

"Dean?" Sam stood frozen in his tracks, staring at Dean's hand. "Hmm?" he asked still distracted and trying to gather his thoughts. "Dude, what's that on your shirt? Is that….?" Dean looked down at the wet spot which, now that he thought about it _was_ a little sticky for moisture from the icepack. His finger tips were sticky and there was a wide patch of red spreading across the bottom half of his t-shirt where he'd been holding Cal as he lifted her out of the car. His eyes met Sam's with a look of total shock.

"My god, it's blood isn't it?" Trust his brother to state the obvious. "Give me the keys Sam. This time _I'm _driving." And drive he did like he never had before.

Twenty minutes drive, accomplished in ten flat. Dean pulled the Impala to a stop with a squeal of tires and screech of brakes as close to Cal's unconscious body as he could get it. How long had she been bleeding? Why hadn't she said anything? Damn it, the woman was going to end up getting herself killed. If she hadn't managed it already.


	5. Chapter 5

Alright, so Cal seems to have let her pride get herself in a wee bit of trouble... It's all good though, she's a tough girl who keeps her cool under pressure. Right? Wait a second, are we talking about _the _Caitlin O'Sullivan who decked Dean for horning in on her bar fight? Heh, heh... okay maybe not.

As always, I don't have any claim on the show Supernatural... just taking letting my overactive imagination take a walk on the Winchester side for a while.

Please Review! They make the writing that much more fun. : D

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_**Chapter 5**_

It had been touch and go on the roadside and later in the car on the way back to the motel. With just the one eye working properly it was a lot harder for Dean to tell how bad the damage really was. He'd dressed his own wounds, and Sammy's more times than he could count so this gash of Cal's wasn't shocking. Finding her passed out on the side of the road, on the other hand, definitely _had _been shocking.

"Sam, we need something to stop the bleeding. I think she might just be in shock." At least he _hoped_ it was only shock. She looked too pink for it to be blood loss and there was no fever so he was assuming it wasn't infected. He taped an old, worn-out t-shirt to her now bare midriff as firmly as he could get it and handed his keys to Sam. "Drive as fast as you can without wrecking the car." It was an order in true Winchester fashion.

Dean was in full protector mode, all of the earlier events of the evening had been pushed aside in his mind until she was alright again. He'd sit in the back seat and keep pressure on it himself. She'd need body heat once the shaking from the shock started anyway. If that's what it really was. God, he hoped it was only shock.

Sam had learnt a thing or two watching his brother drive over the last year. What Dean had managed to cover in ten, he'd accomplished in eight. By the time the Impala squealed to a stop in front of the motel room door the t-shirt was covered in blood and Caitlin had begun to shake. "Damn it. Sam, I think we're going to have to call 9-1-1. Look at her."

She was pale, too pale. Even by their standards. Sam dialed the number and ran around the car to open the door for Dean. They'd have to get her inside and cleaned up before the paramedics got there. She reeked of the beer that had spilled all over her blouse when she'd whacked the cowboy over the head with the bottle earlier. They'd have enough questions to answer at the hospital later. It would help an awful lot if they didn't have to account for _that_ particular escapade.

It wasn't easy… figured the girl would weigh a freaking ton. She didn't make anything easy for him. Somehow though Dean managed to haul her unconscious butt out of the car, through the motel door and into the tiny bathroom. Sam was right behind him the whole way with Cal's bags and the first aid kit in hand. "Dude, toss me another one of her shirts will ya?" At least he had a good excuse to get her out of that thing she called a blouse. Heh heh. She'd be mad as hell when she finally came to but a small victory was a victory nonetheless. "Better grab a pair of socks too. We're gonna need to warm her up to stop the shaking."

"Way ahead of you." Sam answered from the bathroom doorway. Tossing Dean a shirt and a pair of socks, he went to the sink and dampened one of the motel face cloths with cold water. "Hey, these are _my _clothes Sam!" "Yeah. I, uh, grabbed the wrong bag. Didn't think you'd want to wait long enough for me to run back out to the car for hers." Wrong bag, huh? He was supposed to believe that his brother would mistake khaki green for pink, red and white? "Yeah, whatever." He grumbled. Still, they were handy and the socks were a lot warmer than most of what he'd seen Cal wear over the last twenty four hours, so he'd use them.

Carefully maneuvering her so she was sitting squarely on his lap and leaning against his chest, Dean passed the neck of his shirt over Cal's head. It was a move he'd watched more than one girl make over the years. A trick to getting changed without actually getting naked. For the first time that evening he was thankful for the ribbon she was wearing instead of clothing because it would make changing her that much easier.

After carefully pulling her arms through the sleeves he detached the clasp at the back of her neck that held the blouse in place. Then it was just a matter of pulling the black silk away from her body. "Where the hell did you learn to do that Dean?" Sam asked, watching as Dean tossed the material in the garbage next to him. "Hm? Oh that. Here and there. Can I have that face cloth? And would you mind pulling off those things she calls shoes. We need to get these socks on her fast."

The cold of the cloth seemed to be helping to stop the blood flow but for Dean it still wasn't enough. The shaking hadn't stopped yet. Instead it seemed to be getting worse. Not only that but now that she was starting to warm up a bit she went from a healthy-ish pink to a feverish flushed red. This was _not_ good.

By the time the paramedics arrived Cal was mumbling to herself in French as she lay unconscious in Dean's arms. At least he assumed it was French. It didn't sound like any Latin _he_ knew and he only knew the one French sentence "Voulez-vous couchez avec moi ce soir?" He highly doubted that those words would come from her lips any time soon. Especially not directed at him.

He found himself surrounded suddenly by three very large men in uniforms, all kneeling before him and fussing over Cal. Dean sat holding her close and patiently watching as they checked her vitals and her wound. There were questions to answer which he did as best he could. He doubted she would die but even just the possibility was a difficult thing to consider. Just one hour ago she'd been doing her best to annoy the hell out of him… She took down the steroid cowboy for crying out loud. It would take more than a little cut to steal the life from her body.

"Sir?" One of the medics was trying to get his attention "Sir, we're going to have to move her to the gurney now." "Oh, uh, yeah. I got it." They tried to object to him doing it for them. Tried to take her from his arms. As soon as they touched her though the mumbling got louder and Dean finally heard a word he recognized. It wasn't French. It wasn't even really a word. It was a name. "Dean!" she said lifting her head a little and opening her eyes a crack to look straight at him. Thank God, signs of life at last!

"What Cal? What is it?" "Si tu les laisse me toucher je te _jure_ que je vais t'en sacrer une autre bonne." She was lucid just long enough to get the words out and then passed out in his arms again.

She had reverted to the French again and he hadn't understood a word of it. Now, what the hell had that been about? Dean didn't know. He suspected Sam might though because his brother had gone from standing somberly by to laughing at her words. "Sam?" Dean wanted to know what the hell had just happened. "I wouldn't let them touch her until she's on the gurney Dean." He managed to wheeze out. It was enough to know for now.

They followed the ambulance the whole way to the hospital. Sam searched Cal's bags for credit cards and insurance information while Dean drove like a mad man just to keep up with the ambulance. That was two motel rooms in one night that they had wasted money on because of that damned woman. It was hard to be mad at her in the state she was in but Dean was certainly going to give it a try.

"So Sam, you want to tell me what the hell it was that she said back there?" Sam chuckled quietly to himself at the reminder. "Oh that, right. I'm pretty sure Cal's gonna be fine. She was warning you not to let them touch her or she'd hit you again." Dean turned to his brother with wide eyes. Well, one wide eye and one slightly more open slit. "Are you serious?" "Yeah Dean, I'm serious." Well he had to give the chick one thing: she had one hell of a backbone. He felt a whole lot better knowing her claws were still out, even if they had been directed at him. Sam was right. As long as the sass was still there she would be just fine.

"So Frances, since when do you know how to speak French?"

"Oh? Um, I don't. I, uh, took a couple of foreign languages classes back at Stanford. It's how I met Jess. I can understand it, but I couldn't speak it to save my life." Well, that explained it.

Suddenly the long hospital wait ahead of them didn't seem so daunting, now that Dean had something tease Sam about.

She woke alone in a hospital bed to the sight of an IV tube pumping blood back into her body. Damn. Well, wasn't _she _off to a great start this morning! Cal was no stranger to waking up disoriented in odd places. It was an unfortunate by-product of working the hunting gig alone. So now came the fun part: piecing it all together.

What the hell had happened the night before?

Closing her eyes again she tried to focus her swimming mind. Cal remembered the bar… she'd had a lot to drink, but not enough to land her in hospital. Ah, and there had been the cowboy… tall, dark and smelly? Yup, she remembered him alright. Hard not to.

And the Winchester boys… right. She'd decked Dean, given him a black eye and then got kicked out of his car. Last thing she remembered was sitting down on her duffel bag by the side of the road and worrying about that idiot vampire who couldn't take 'no' for an answer. That sleazebag _Earl_.

She'd been bleeding… hadn't she? A little blood would have made her an easy target… she may as well have painted a bulls-eye on herself… Was that what had happened? Her eyes fluttered open again in a panic. Shaking fingers flew to her neck, checking for bite marks… anything at all that might be out of the ordinary to tell her just how seriously in trouble she really was. There was nothing there to feel but slightly damp, clammy skin. "Oh thank _God_!" Relief washed over her in one great wave, warm and comforting. She didn't even realize that she'd spoken the words until a hoarse voice came to her from the far corner of the room.

"Ah, so we're back to English again are we? Well _that's_ a good sign." The last person in the world she'd expected to approach her bedside was in fact standing right beside her in all his disheveled glory. _Merde_. She was in trouble. Dean Winchester picked up her small, cold hand in his very large warm one and smiled a smile he usually reserved for the likes of cute bartenders. "Nice to see She-Ra rejoin the land of the living finally." His tone was light and teasing, but the concern he still felt rang clearly beneath it. Her heart skipped a beat. Damn. That. Man.

Maybe she could close her eyes and pretend she was in a coma. She was too tired to deal with Mr. Caveman Winchester. Okay, she was too tired to fight with her reaction to Mr. Caveman Winchester. How was it that he was here anyway?

"Can't say it's a pleasure to be back… not so fun when everything hurts." Chocolate. She needed chocolate and lots of it. Especially if he was going to keep holding her hand and being nice to her like that. "Yeah, about the hurting thing. I was thinking it might not be such a bad thing. A taste of your own medicine might do you some good." He had to be kidding. She was attached to a bag of blood, aching all over from she-didn't-even-know-what, and he was still looking for 'I'm sorry' for the black eye. Men. No. Wait. Not men… _that man_. "Oh quit it you big baby. Your eye's not even that swollen anymore. It's not like I did any permanent damage or anything."

"No. You're right. You didn't." Was that a sad smile on his face? "You almost did some serious permanent damage to yourself though." How hard had she hit the guy last night? Could she have given him more than a bruise? Charm, concern, playing nice… It just didn't fit. What had happened while she was unconscious for him to suddenly turn into the closest thing he could get to knight-in-shining-armor?

"Hey, didn't you kick me out of your precious car last night? What the hell are you doing here?" Okay, so she was being just a tad bit ungrateful… she didn't have a choice though. Her defenses were down and she was suffering from heart palpitations. A girl had to protect herself… especially from Dean Winchester. Besides, maybe if she prodded him a little he might go back to being moody. It was a whole lot easier to justify picking on him when he was being a pain in her behind.

The insufferable man just took it all in stride. He actually had the nerve to laugh at her. "Now there's the Cal we all know and love. Sammy'll be glad to see you're feeling better." She glared at him and fought off the shivers that the deep rumbling sound of his laughter had brought on. "You didn't answer my question."

"Well it's a bit of a long story… Of course we _are_ going to be here awhile. I might just entertain you with it if you ask me nicely enough." The rather loud, unseemly snort that came from the bed caused just the one of his eyebrows to shoot up interestingly. "Well that's attractive." "In case you haven't noticed I'm not exactly trying to win a beauty contest here or anything." she shot back, calling attention to the IV hooked up to her body.

"After the whole bar thing that went down last night I'm surprised you're not complaining because you're fully clothed. Incidentally: do you own _anything_ that's less than skin tight and almost non-existent?" Great, now who's picking on who? Geez, talk about kicking a girl when she's down.

Changing the subject was definitely the safer road to travel on this one. "So, where's Sam?" Vulnerable was definitely safer with the kid along for the ride. Especially when Dean was trying to pull out the old Winchester charm. You'd think the black eye would have been enough to warn the guy off…

"Oh, I sent him out to buy you some clothes. The doc said you'd need something loose-fitting to avoid opening that nasty cut open again. I couldn't find anything in your bag that could be described with a word other than 'snug' and as cute as you look in my clothes, I've barely got enough for myself so… the only option left was to buy you more." His clothes? What the hell was he talking about 'his clothes'?

Cal looked down only to find herself swimming in a huge black AC/DC t-shirt. Her jeans from the night before were covered in blood on a chair across the room. It looked like they had to cut them off at some point. Apart from the t-shirt she wore only a hospital blanket and a pair of huge, incredibly warm socks that were also, apparently, not hers.

"Dean?" She asked as calmly as she could all things considered… "What happened to my clothes?" "Um, well. Ha, ha" he was very obviously nervous about answering.. Why did she get the feeling she would want to hit him again before the conversation was over? "Funny story, actually. The, uh, ribbon… I mean _blouse_ was trashed back at the motel." He couldn't have been happier about that one. Try as he might to hide it, the corners of his mouth curled up when he told her and he wore a decidedly satisfied expression while he delivered the bad news of its demise. That was okay, she knew where she could get another one and this time she would go red.

The jerk had probably tossed it in the trash himself. "The, uh, doctors had to cut the jeans off you during the night when you went into shock. They were soaked in blood and you were freezing. They had to get you dry to warm you up and stop the shaking." Okay, so that was question one answered. On to the more serious one that was begging to be answered.

"And how exactly did I come to be in _your_ clothes?" "Well, I'm not usually one to get fresh on the first date… but in this case I made a little exception." He flashed her another one of his patented grins... Suddenly Cal didn't have the patience for his so-called 'charming' sense of humor anymore. "Do you mean to tell me that you took my clothes off?" Her voice was deadly calm and she wasn't looking so pale anymore… Crap, she really _was_ feeling better.

Dean gently set her hand back down on the bed and stepped away, shrugging sheepishly in answer to her question. "So basically – just so we get this straight – YOU TOOK MY SHIRT OFF under which I was very obviously wearing _nothing. _While I was unconscious. _That about cover it?_" Wow, that transfusion was really doing it's job well. Her whole body was now bright red, flushed from anger and embarrassment.

Dean had seen her naked. Without her permission. You just didn't mess with a girl's privacy like that, under _any_ circumstance. Dude was going to die.

"Oh! You think I saw you… No. No, no, no… that's not what happened!" He was laughing. As usual Cal had jumped to the wrong conclusion… she'd probably laugh once he explained it to her… Right?

Then again… maybe not. Her eyes were blue steel trying to impale him where he stood with a look that that would have made a weaker man cower. Maybe… it would be safer… to wait for _Sammy_ to explain it to her. Dean Winchester does not cower… he just knows when to pick his battles "I'm, ah, going to go grab a coffee…" and knows when to retreat to higher, safer ground.

The pillow Cal threw at him as Dean all but ran out of the room hit the door jamb and slid across the hall with the force of her anger.

Now that she was feeling better, he didn't feel so bad calling her on a lousy shot. "We're going to have to work on that throwing arm Cal. You missed me and went wide!" Her angry growl could be heard clear through to the next ward. "Espece de _cochon!_" There was no doubt about it: When it came to Dean, Cal had some _serious_ anger management problems. Although… than angry French thing… she could yell like that at him any time she wanted. It was _definitely _growing on him.


	6. Chapter 6

So, I finally have a Chapter 6 to update with. Cal's still a little worse for wear but she's determined not to let it slow her down. Dean is starting to get to her though... and she's not liking it. Or at least, she won't admit to herself that she is. As for Dean... well she manages to piss him off again... which was exactly the result that she was aiming for.

I've noticed that alot of people have been reading this one. Thanks for taking the time to pop by my little fic and I hope you all are enjoying what you're reading. Please don't be shy... I'd really love it if you reviewed on what you've seen so far.

For now: here's chapter six. Hope you enjoy!

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_**Chapter 6**_

The Man was a freaking menace. I mean, she'd thought the Steroid Cowboy had been a jerk… Oh my_ god_! He had taken her top off… and let's face it: with what she'd been wearing 'bra' had not been an option. Dean Winchester had seen her naked breasts. _Nobody_ saw her naked, not even just partially, and especially not without permission. Last guy who had tried… well _that_ had been self-defense and it had been far uglier than some harmless little bar brawl. If she remembered correctly (and the restraining order made it hard for her not to) he had been lucky to crawl away with all his parts attached. The guy had it coming. No means no. No one could ever say Cal couldn't hold her own.

Throwing that pillow just hadn't been enough. There was too much mad in her and when she was mad fluffy didn't cut it. What could she have done though? It was the only thing handy at the time. There hadn't been anything heavy enough to do damage within reaching distance…and he'd probably planned it that way too. She'd had to let it go, at least temporarily. She felt weak and pathetic and she was absolutely _hating_ it.

It was a sad, sad day when throwing a pillow sapped her of all her energy and made her want to sleep forever. And why were hospitals always so cold? There were goosebumps traveling all over her body and she was getting nasty chills. It was a miracle she didn't look like a smurf. Don't these people know what heat is? She felt like she would never be warm again.

It wasn't giving up, or giving in… Cal never did either. It was resting for the sake of being able to get up and fight another day. At least that's how she justified it to herself when she turned over on her good side and pulled the blankets above her head. She was conscious just long enough to register the extremely interesting scent of Dean's aftershave which was permanently fused to the shirt she was wearing. Aftershave and something else… something purely Dean. Ha, knowing the macho jerk he probably sweat pure testosterone.

As oblivion set in and darkness took hold of her tired mind her last thought was a denial. She was definitely _not _smiling because of the way that man smelled… she was just… having a muscle spasm… yeah… that's right… sounded about right…

Of course when Dean walked back into the room a few minutes later and carefully peeked at her face under the covers to be sure she was still okay Cal was very obviously smiling to herself in her sleep.

There was something whispering across the skin of her face. Wait. No. Make that more than one 'something'. Fingers? Finger_tips?_ Someone was very gently tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear. The gesture was the most tender thing she'd ever experienced. So… who…?

Heavy eyelids made it hard to wake up. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe they'd given her some meds to make her sleep, she didn't know and really didn't care. All that mattered was getting her eyes open so she could see just exactly who was touching her that way. Whoever he was had to be something special. No one had _ever_ touched her like that before… oh and it definitely was a 'he'. Those roughened fingertips were _far_ too large to belong to anything but a man.

It was one hell of a challenge… but somehow she got the one eye open a crack so that she could barely see past her own eyelashes. Okay, not _perfect _but hey: she could see right? Well, sort of.

He was a bit of a blur. More of a shadow in the darkness of the room and he was really fuzzy around the edges. There was no mistaking the face that was inches from hers though. She'd know those intense hazel eyes anywhere. Something had to be wrong… Dean wasn't supposed to be nice to her. She didn't want him to be. He'd be impossible to fight off that way. Especially now, when she was a complete wreck.

Cal didn't do vulnerable. Hell she barely bothered with 'female' unless it worked to her advantage. But there she was, bedridden in the hospital having been thrown into the role of damsel in distress. Now Dean Winchester was sitting beside her holding her hand in his big strong warm one as she slept off the worst of her injury. With just the one of her eyes barely open he had no idea that she was awake… or he may never have said the words out loud. As it was they were just a whisper. His breath tickled her cheek as he said the words.

"Damn it Cal, you gave us one hell of a scare back there. I don't know what the hell you were thinking letting yourself practically bleed to death like that and not even saying a word. Believe me: when you finally wake up again I'll have plenty to say about it. I'm pretty sure Sam'll have a thing or two to say too. Right now though…" he took a deep breath that hitched halfway in and came out a broken sigh. "Right now I'm just glad you're okay." Fingertips were tracing her hairline, brushing aside bangs and suddenly soft, warm lips touched forehead. Briefly… so briefly… in the sweetest kiss Cal had ever experienced.

Her eyes finally opened as she melted inside. Dean's eyes went wide in surprise then softened into warmth that chased away the 'hospital' cold feeling that had stolen over her. For once she wasn't angry or defensive. In fact, instead of finding a scowl he was pleasantly surprised with a soft and decidedly feminine smile. He knew that kind of smile… Never one to pass up an opportunity, nor yet a pretty girl, Dean leaned in on impulse and ever so lightly brushed his lips across hers.

He smelled of leather, aftershave and fresh air. His lips were there and then they were gone… or almost… hovering just above her own in a question. Should he? Would she let him? Did she want him too? Dude could barely stand a chick flick moment with his own brother but he could ask her three very loaded questions without even saying a word. How the hell was she supposed to resist him? She couldn't say no to that… it was impossible. So she answered him by lifting her head off the pillow and showing him exactly what her answers were. This time, when their lips met and parted the sensation was the equivalent to an electric shock shooting straight through her body.

She woke from the dream with the electric jolt that had come from the kiss, gasping and in shock. There was absolutely _nothing _sluggish about _this_ awakening. Jesus. She really was loosing it if she was dreaming of sexy kisses and Dean Winchester.

She still lay on her side and Dean was still just across from her… only at a much safer distance all the way across the room sleeping in the chair by the window. So… it really had been a dream. Cal, what the hell are you doing dreaming of kissing that man like every other woman he tosses his impish little boy smile to? You are not that kind of girl!

That was it, she'd had enough of this hospital crap. It was starting to mess with her head. So her decision was made right then and there. Cal O'Sulivan was blowing this two-bit popsicle stand… and she was doing it _without_ the Winchesters in tow.

The IV had been removed as she slept, otherwise leaving would not have been as easy. As it was it was just a matter of getting a pair of pants and shoes on and making a hasty…quiet…exit. She was on her way out the door when she spotted Dean's coat hanging off the chair that he was sleeping in. She needed cash…and wheels… and the guy _did_ owe her big for the topless thing… No matter how loud and obnoxious that car of his was it _would_ be fun to take it for a little joy ride. Okay then, she would do it. Hee, hee she only wished she could be there when he woke up and realized what had happened.

Caitlin O'Sulivan was nothing if not resourceful. Five minutes after waking she was on the road in the Impala… speeding back down the interstate toward her own car. Dean's phone was wedged between her shoulder and her cheek as she made reservations at two different hotels near the hospital to throw the boys off her trail, and another in a town about a half hours drive away from where she'd left her Mustang for actual use.

She was tempted to keep the car for a few days...It was one hell of a ride. The Metallicar was definitely growing on her. Still, Dean would be pissed off enough as it was. Keeping his car would be pushing it just a _tad_. Besides, her own baby was waiting for her and she hadn't been driven in days.

Bif Naked was on the radio singing her personal favorite 'We're Not Gonna Take It'. The bass was pumping through her as wide wheels ate up miles of asphalt The windows were wide open and fresh air was whipping through her hair. Cal was singing at the top of her lungs and feeling more alive and free than she had in a very long time. This had been an _excellent _idea.

Dean woke with a start with the sound of a code red being called over the speakers in the hall. It brought home too many recent memories for comfort. There was no way he'd be able to get back to sleep now.

A quick glance at the lump in the bed told him her IV had come out and he was relieved to see that the beast was still sleeping. Thank God for that. He didn't think he could handle being yelled at before coffee. French or no.

A look through the window toward the parking lot where he'd left the car told him that Sam had gone to find caffeine that wouldn't rot a hole right through him. "Thank God!" It was a heartfelt whisper in the quiet room. That hospital coffee was probably designed to generate more patients. In his opinion it did in a pinch but had the same consistency as toxic waste.

He couldn't resist a peek at her as she slept. He'd done it often since the night before. She looked so peaceful…_almost_ innocent. So he very slowly approached the bed, trying hard not to breathe too loudly or make a sound. Wouldn't do if she woke up and caught him in the act of checking up on her. She was already livid about something she'd assumed he'd done. No way he was risking making her angrier.

Somehow he managed it. Sam came through the open door as Dean hooked a finger under the top of the blanket where her face would be. "What…?" there was only pillow. He stood frozen, able only to look up at Sam… who was holding a couple of coffees… in the same white and brown paper cups the hospital kitchen used… That's when the thinking part of Dean's brain finally woke up.

"Dean? What's the matter?" There was a slightly twisted look of surprise and shock on his brothers face that made Sam wonder what the heck he had seen under those covers. As far as he knew there was only Cal under there. In one swift move Dean threw back the blanket on the bed and revealed several pillows bunched together where Cal had been lying not so long ago. You could have knocked Sam down with a feather. Dean would have smiled at the sight of his brother except that an ugly thought had suddenly occurred to him.

"Sam… tell me you got that coffee somewhere where they have the same bad taste as the hospital cafeteria. Please…"

"Huh? What are you talking about… I just went downstairs for a few minutes… why?" Dean's shoulder's fell in defeat. "My car… she took _my…car_." He couldn't believe it. Sure, he knew Cal was ballsy. She was the type of person who would do whatever it took to get it done, whatever _it _happened to be. Still… she took his CAR. Oh, what he would do to her when he finally got his hands on her! One scratch. If there was even one little scratch… God the way that chick drives his poor baby didn't stand a chance! He needed to catch up with her. Now.

The need for coffee forgotten, Dean raced over to his jacket and his phone. He needed to put out an APB on his plates. Then he needed to get a car so he could catch up with her. It was just too damn bad she'd busted up her cell phone when she got hurt… otherwise he'd call her up and give her what for right then and there. At least he would… if he could find his phone… um… and his wallet…

His fake ID and insurance card were the only thing the little thief had left him.

Sam was still standing in the doorway, though the coffees were now sitting on the table next to the bed. He was shaking with the force of holding back the laughter in and there were tears in his eyes. Bewildered. It was the word that came to mind as he watched his brother search frantically through his jacket for the things he considered necessities.

Dean, the man who didn't even so much as flinch in the face of Wendigos and Vampires alike, looked like he was going to loose it completely over a girl, a wallet, a car and a cell phone. He'd have to remember to thank Cal when they finally caught up with her. He hadn't laughed so hard or so much in a very long time.

"Hey! Dude, you think you can quit laughing long enough to toss me your phone?" Anger, shock and annoyance warred within him. Damn. That. Woman. There would be hell to pay for this when he finally caught up with her.

Cal on the other hand was having a grand old time. She was enjoying the ride so much that she took a couple of detours just to make the trip a last little longer. The Metallicar even took a trip through a drive-thru so she could get coffee without getting out from behind the wheel.

She finally pulled up beside her own baby an hour and a half later than she should have. It was nice, being able to use a key instead of a paperclip to open the trunk and spring her stuff from its depths. She was tired, sore and starting to slow down fast. It was time to get to the hotel. The last couple of days were definitely taking their toll and she was ready for bed and rest.

She finally tossed her keys under the driver's seat then locked and closed the door. Wouldn't do for Dean's baby to get stolen now would it? "I hate to say it but Dean's right." She spoke to the car as she ran a hand lovingly from roof to hood. "You are one awesome machine." Goodbye having been said she climbed into her own little muscle car and sped off. Toward the city, toward the hotel… that's right hotel… no dingy motel room for this girl… at least not when she was using Dean's credit card… and toward well deserved rest and recuperation.


	7. Chapter 7

Alright, so I've resigned myself to just the one review on this one...sigh I'm just happy that you guys are reading it and assume that you're enjoying it. You are enjoying it, right? lol I hope so...I'd hate to have written seven chapters of a story that isn't any good. :P (sorry, just teasing a little... though I would like reviews... seriously)

Well anyway... hehe... this chapter is a little bit longer that the others. I think the length was worth it though. Dean is having a hard time figuring out whether he should be angry or worried, Cal is rebelling and messing with Dean as usual... did I mention that the Metallicar goes for a joyride? hmmm...Feel free to drop me a line and let me know what you think...

So here is Chapter seven: sorry again about the length... and enjoy!

* * *

_**Chapter 7**_

They had to admit it. She was good.

Cal had led them on a wild goose chase. His credit cards and cell phone had led them to two different hotels in the area, both of which turned up empty. Of course. The girl had spent the better part of her life running, fighting, lying, stealing and hunting stuff. She certainly wouldn't make the chase easy. Or pleasant.

They were headed out from the second hotel toward the crappy rental Sammy had insisted on when on impulse he dialed his own number on Sam's phone. Whether or not she'd pick up he had no idea… but he sure as hell was going to try.

As luck would have it she did pick up, on the third ring just before the voice mail kicked in. "Hello?" She sounded groggy as if she'd been asleep. Eleven o'clock at night, they were chasing her all over the damn city and she was fast asleep somewhere comfortable. It was the last straw. "Well hell! This must be my lucky day. You actually picked up." Bitterness dripped off his every word.

"Oh its _you_." Well at least she was awake… though she wasn't being too friendly herself. There was venom in the way she spat out the word 'you' that he could have done without. Although it certainly helped feed his anger and that was okay by him. Anger was something he had plenty of, and at the moment it was all directed at her. "So, I can tell you're settled in somewhere nice and cozy for the night. Where the hell are you Cal?"

Oh, she was so not taking this crap from him. "None of your damned business Dean. If you decided not to stop for the night that's your own fault. Now leave me alone and let a girl get a decent night's sleep." "Oh I don't think so Cal. Not until I have my car back." There was silence on her end.

"You mean you haven't found it yet? Dude, you're not exactly at the top of your game tonight are you? I locked her up and left her for you when I picked up my 'Stang. So go get your precious baby and tuck in for the night already. I hurt. A lot. So if it's all the same to you I'd like to sleep it off. Goodnight Dean."

She hung up on him. He stood there next to the rental staring at the phone and he _still_ couldn't believe Cal had hung up on him on his own phone. Then, once the whole pride thing began to ease up he started thinking about what she had said. His Impala was parked where she had left her Mustang.

She still had his phone, and most likely his wallet too but his baby was parked about three miles away from the bar they'd been to the night before… She'd left it where he should have thought to look for it himself. So… she had some sense of decency _after_ all.

Cal had also mentioned being in pain. It was to be expected of course. That little twelve hour hospital stint of hers had not been easy on any of them, but especially not her. Shock, blood loss, fever and infection had all wracked her body at once. It had been sheer luck that she'd fought it off so quickly. The situation had been touch-and-go for hours and the doctors had mentioned antibiotics for the next couple of weeks to be sure that the infection stayed gone. Had she even bothered talking with the doctor before leaving? He seriously doubted it.

The anger was still there but now worry was beginning to creep in there with it as Sam drove them toward the Impala. Worry and anger were not a good combination for Dean Winchester. It generally left him short tempered and moody… and when he finally let it all out the explosion had the same impact as a nuclear warhead.

"Sam…we, uh, have to find her. Tonight." Sam just pressed his lips together and drove a little faster. "She's still got my phone and my wallet… and I don't think… I mean, I seriously doubt…" Try as he might he just couldn't put the thought into words. Sam knew though. "Yeah. I know. She left so fast that she probably didn't bother with any meds. Which, by the way, I picked up while I went on that last coffee run before she took off."

Well, at least they had them. Not having to drag her stubborn behind back to the hospital to get her prescription would make things a little easier. Unfortunately hearing the words out loud like that did nothing good for the worry he had begun to feel. Once again, for the sake of pride, Cal was putting her health at risk. The woman had a freaking death wish.

Cal had known about the blood loss. The bag of blood that had been hooked up to her arm was all she'd needed to piece that much together. The shock, the fever and the infection, however, had all happened when she was either unconscious or delusional. She had no memory of it ever having happened.

So when she finally arrived at the hotel and found it hard to keep her eyes open long enough to park and check in she could only chalk it up to exhaustion from the road trip. When she finally made it into the elevator and up to the tenth floor there was barely enough energy left in her to lock the door. It was nothing short of a miracle that she was able to pull off her jeans and sneakers and crawl under the covers of the queen sized bed.

When Dean called and woke her up she realized that the hospital chill had seeped back into her bones again. She was achy and sore all over and just wanted to sleep, so that's what she did. Only, as she rested her temperature started shooting up again. She'd been overdo for antibiotics for hours already.

She had no idea she'd even been on antibiotics. They had been given to her intravenously until her IV had been removed. There was no way she could have possibly known it, but she was in danger of landing her sorry behind right back in the hospital again.

When it came to hiding out and covering tracks Cal was good. It had to be said. Experience and the training her father had put her through had made her damned good at what she did. Oh, she was good alright… but Dean Winchester wasbetter and he would prove it to her before the night was out.

By the time they reached the Impala Dean had all of the days' purchases on his credit card traced. He tracked her down through process of elimination. She'd used his card to make reservations at six different hotels but had only checked in and actually paid for the one. Figured… it was the most expensive one. After speaking with the front desk clerk Dean knew they had her.

A certain Ms. Mary Jane Watson drove in just after seven and had parked her little red Mustang in the hotel's underground parking lot before heading up to her room. She'd explained to them that she was using her step-brothers credit card and the hotel staff had just let her. Dean pictured her batting her eyelashes and flirting shamelessly to get her way. Bunch of sad, gullible sons of… the thought didn't even bear finishing. It didn't matter anyway. He had his car and they'd found little miss 'big-time-spender'. In a few minutes he would be face to face with her again and boy would he let her have it.

Now, Dean is not exactly what one would call… subtle. He's a lot like his car: loud, obnoxious and real nice to look at. As for the many personality flaws he carries with him… well his ability to feel wholeheartedly no matter what emotion it is and his immense sense of responsibility for pretty much _everything_ more than makes up for them. He is charming and generally modest and when he's not, Sammy generally takes him down a notch or two. The man is a saint with a tarnished halo… unless he is pissed off.

He was already angry. Angry about having been assaulted for being concerned when Cal first asked them for help… angry about the whole bar incident… angry that Cal had been keeping stuff like bleeding to death from him… angry that she'd taken off with his car, among other things. He was worried too and that just added to the anger. He kept trying to figure out why in the hell someone would run away from the hospital so soon after nearly bleeding to death. Especially when she knew she was safe with them…

When the kid at the front desk refused to give them the room number he went from angry to livid. Seems the kid didn't believe that Dean and Sam could possibly be related to Mary Jane Watson. Maybe it was Dean's use of the name Peter… a little too close to the comic book hero to believable. Still… as always Dean had a back-up plan. He pulled out the one fake ID Cal had left in his jacket. He should have known better… should have checked which one it was before flashing it around to try and get his way… but nooo, he just pulled it out and proceeded to make a general fool of himself.

"Sorry man, which agency did you say you were with?" Was this kid for real? He was tossing around 'tude to a badge? Though Dean had to respect his disregard for authority figures he was still less than happy about it. "Look, kid, doesn't really matter which agency I'm with does it? I'm on a case and I need to speak with miss Watson and you're going to give me her room number so I can do that. NOW." The kid snorted at him and looked at him skeptically. Then he opened his mouth and put his life on the line.

"First of all dude, you don't look like any government agent I've ever seen. You're too rock and roll and not enough paper-pushing stuck-up jerk. I mean… where are the suits man? The guy you're here with… way more believable." The kid took a moment to admire the surprised, shocked look he'd managed to plaster all over Dean's face then went on before it wore off and the scary guy started throwing punches at him.

"Secondly… whatever-you-said-you're-name-is…Peter Parker was it? You think I was born yesterday? If you really _are _some sort of agent then you're a really dumb one. You're flashing around an 'Official Bikini Inspector' card." Well, it didn't matter how funny the situation was. Sam knew it was time to get Dean the heck out of there before he did something they wouldn't be able to talk their way out of.

His brother had officially surpassed his threshold of patience. He'd gone from livid to officially 'pissed-off' in the space of a heartbeat. They were barely out the door when Dean muttered the words "fire escape" and took off toward the back of the building.

"Dean! We don't even know what room she's in." Sam called out to him. What was he planning to do: peek into every window until they found the right one? "Dufus left the reservations book open. She's in room ten-oh-five." Dean called back. Sam had to run to catch up with him.

Who would have thought that four hours sleep in three days were not conducive to climbing ten floors worth of fire escape? It was a lesson hard learned. The boys were completely out of steam by the time they reached their destination. Still. Dean trudged on. They were close and he wouldn't be happy until she was in his sights. It would all be for nothing if she ran off before they caught up with her. He wanted to tear a strip into her and then he wanted answers. In exactly that order.

He wasn't exactly sure which window belonged to room ten-oh-five. Sam was not at all surprised when his brother started playing 'peeping-tom' looking through windows trying to find either her room or an empty one they could use to sneak into the building. As it turned out there was only one occupied room on that entire side of the tenth floor. Dean took an educated guess as to whom exactly that room belonged to. "This is it." He said as he started to take the screen off the window and climb in. Sam wasn't so sure.

"Dean, stop it. We don't know that's her room and I don't really want to waltz in on some stranger, wake them up and then have to run out or get arrested." "Relax Sam. This is the only room in use with access to the fire escape. She's on the run from us _and_ a love-sick vampire. She may be crazy _and_ suicidal but the chic is definitely not stupid. She'll want to be able to make a quick and above all _unnoticed_ escape if we or her not-so-secret admirer show up." He was going in whether Sammy followed or not.

In one look the question was passed between them: are you coming too? Sam sighed deeply, obviously unhappy. "Fine. For the record: I don't like it." Dean just smirked a 'whatever' and climbed through.

It just got better and better. The 'room' Cal had booked for the night wasn't a room at all but a full sized suite. It reeked of 'spare-no-expense' and everything in it was high-end. They had climbed in through the living area window and it took them three tries to find the bedroom. Dean was single-minded in his quest for a curvy sleeping figure… Sam wasn't real sure he wanted to be there when he finally found her.

So instead of following Dean, Sam went his own way in search of the kitchen. Cal would need water to be able to swallow the meds… plus he was willing to bet she hadn't eaten since before they went to the bar the day before. Dean… well Dean was most likely going to yell… a lot… and Sam wouldn't likely be able to calm him down until he got it all out.

Cal didn't seem like the type who was used to people doing things for her. In fact Sam suspected that it was actually the other way around. Like Dean, Cal was the one who took care of others and preferring to carry her burdens alone. When she and Dean finally started duking it out the last thing on her mind would be taking care of herself, so Sam was going to make sure someone did.

The only light in the bedroom came from the open doorway. Dean could barely make out the shape of the bed, let alone the figure that lay within it. He didn't have to, he already knew it was her.

Even if he hadn't just spent the entire night before listening to her breathing as she slept in the hospital to be sure she wasn't taking a turn for the worst again…even if he hadn't memorized the shape her body took when she lay curled up on her side in her favorite position for sleep…Even if she hadn't said his name in her sleep again…

Even if… well, he would be able to make out her bags anywhere. Anyone could. They had an almost fluorescent white stripe across them that caught whatever light was available and reflected it. She'd picked them out like that so she could find them and the weapons she kept inside quickly and easily when she was in tight situations… which apparently happened a lot for her.

The first thing he noticed was that she was still wearing his t-shirt, something he was definitely okay with. It had never looked quite as good on him as it did on her. Then he noticed that she was shivering under the mountain of blankets that covered her. Not a 'just caught a little chill' kind of shiver. No this was a 'something nasty coming on' kind of violent shiver. Wasn't nearly as bad as the night before but she would need the meds fast if she was going to avoid another hospital visit.

Pushing aside the anger momentarily he called out to Sam then rushed over to her and gently lay a hand on her forehead and cheeks. "Jesus, she's burning up… Cal, you've really got to stop doing this to yourself… it kills me finding you like this." And that's when she opened her eyes.

At first she thought it was part of the dream. There had been several variations of the one she'd had in the hospital since she'd fallen asleep. That last one had been a bit steamier than just a kiss and each one had been more real than the next. So when she heard his voice and felt his hand touch her forehead with a gentleness that made her want to cry it was only natural for her to think she was still fast asleep.

It never occurred to her that he might actually be in the room.

She didn't see his surprise when she sat up and leaned into him, laying her head on his shoulder. When her arms wrapped around his waist and she held on as if her life depended on it his arms went around her too and held her safely against him. Not one thing he had rehearsed on the chase all that night came to mind… "You scared the living hell out of me today woman. Don't you ever do that again, you hear me?" was what came out instead. It was a tortured growl in his chest where her ear was pressed against him. Funny… he hadn't been scared in any of the other dreams… at this point she didn't care though. She was tired and it felt so good to just be held and to feel safe.

She said nothing when he shifted her out from under the blankets and onto his lap. It was cold, really cold. But he was so warm and it was so much more comfortable there than in bed so she was willing to let it go. Safe… good lord it had been a long time since she'd felt safe! It felt nice. She wasn't willing to let it go yet. Her eyes drifted slowly shut and she went limp in Dean's arms as she drifted off again.

He'd expected her to yell at him for showing up in her room at three o'clock in the morning… maybe throw something at him… like her fists or maybe the clock radio next to the bed. Of all the scenarios that had run through his mind that night, none of them had involved Caitlin O'Sulivan curling up in his lap, wrapping her arms around him and falling asleep. It felt good. Really, really good. Unfortunately, no matter how nice it was it meant that something was wrong… and he knew what that something was. The heat of the fever was seeping right through his clothes and she was shivering as if she was freezing.

Dean lost no time. Once again he slid an arm under her knees, the other around her back and carried her out to find Sam and the meds. Looked like they'd be bunking down here for a couple of days. One thing was for sure… he was not going to let her out of his sight. His little escape artist was not performing any more tricks…at least not until she was feeling better. He would make sure of it personally even if it meant tying her to the damned bed. She may be stubborn… but so was he and a stubborn Dean Winchester was a force to be reckoned with.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter 8**_

All she had needed were the antibiotics. An hour or so after they had managed to wake Cal up long enough to take them her shivering stopped and the fever was gone again. Even still she was wrecked and slept solidly for a good ten hours straight. Dean and Sam took turns watching over her while she did. Partly to be sure one of them would be awake to get her the meds on time and partly because they were afraid she'd wake up and run again.

When she finally did wake up… well…

Her first conscious thought came before she even opened her eyes. Apparently her 'Dean dreams' were not a product of the hospital messing with her head… because she'd been having them pretty much all night. She couldn't say that she minded them. They only bothered her when Dean was around, and he was hours away with absolutely no clue where she was. So she gave in to the mellow feeling that the dreams had left her with and sighed happily as she uncurled herself and stretched out cat-like under the covers.

To say that she was surprised when her arm hit something very large and very solid beside her would be an understatement. It scared the hell out of her actually. To the point that she went soaring out of bed toward her bag and her arsenal, positive that Earl had caught up with her finally. Only, when she got there she was forced to freeze mid-move because the stitch in her side hurt so badly. Funny… it hadn't hurt her the night before…

Then she heard the deep, rumbling, sleepy voice. "S'it hurting you again Cal?" it asked her, obviously concerned. It sent the best kind of shivers through her. That voice… she knew that voice. Oh no… no way… it couldn't be.

Maybe she was dreaming again… maybe she was hallucinating… maybe she was just hearing things? She didn't want to know. It was too early and she didn't even have coffee in her yet… though it sure smelled wonderful coming from somewhere in the suite. Even the tempting scent of fresh caffeine wasn't enough to make her want to take any chances on this one. _If_ she was right, then she may just possibly be in worse shape than if Earl had caught up with her. If she was right then the solid mass that was even now in the bed where she had slept the night away was none other than Dean Winchester.

Oh! She was _so_ not taking chances with this one. Pain or no, she was hauling ass as far away from there as humanly possible. She was just standing up with her bags in hand when a very large, very warm hand wrapped itself firmly around her shoulder. "Cal? Put the bags down." The voice was gentle but it had that 'don't mess with me' steel edging to it. The one that never failed to annoy her to no end.

Dream, Cal. Just a dream. A very _real _dream. Still… just a dream (she hoped) Just walk through the door and leave. It'll go away. One foot in front of the other…One step at a time… Except that when she did try to take a step the hand was still there, and it spun her around to face the owner of _that voice_ so she couldn't pretend it wasn't real anymore. She had to drop her bags then, because she had to grab her side with both hands. Her stitches felt like they were pulling themselves open and it was not a pleasant feeling.

One look at the grimace that had twisted her face and Dean knew what was wrong. She would have fallen to her knees with the pain had he not held her steady and moved her over to the bed. Had she popped a stitch? The only way he could possibly tell was by looking at it… he didn't even think about what he was doing, just tried to lift the bottom edge of the t-shirt so he could get the bandage off and take a look.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she shouted at him as she slapped his hands away. "Ow! What the hell was _that_ for?" he shouted right back at her. Was the guy insane? She was wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear… he'd already snuck a peek at her half-naked. The thought even now made her blush (thank god the room was too dark for it to show… hopefully) now he was trying to get to the other half? She thought not.

"What was it for? Dude, I'm wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear and _you _are trying to pull what little clothing I _do _have on away. And you're asking me what that was for?" Right. Well _she _was feeling better. As glad as he was to see it… he wasn't exactly happy about the mood change. He liked her better when she was cuddling up to him then when she was shouting, calling him names and throwing things at him.

"I was _not _trying to take your shirt off. I was trying to get a look at your stitches to make sure you haven't popped one open." Of course she _would_ just glare at him and pull the blankets over herself. Too bad, she had great legs he thought shamelessly. "And before you go accusing me of stuff again let's get something straight here, alright? I have not seen you naked, _at all_ period. I'm red blooded, not a freaking pervert."

"Right, like I'm supposed to believe that? You changed my top, threw my blouse away and put me in this thing." She was plucking ungratefully at the sleeve of his t-shirt " and _I'm_ supposed to believe that you saw nothing. Yeah. Sure. Do I have 'gullible' written across my forehead or something?" "No, but maybe you should!" Aggravation had hiked his voice up a notch. "For your information, _Caitlin_, I put the t-shirt on you _before_ taking your blouse off. And I did it just so you wouldn't wake up and be upset because I got to see what little bit of skin that _thing_ you called a blouse actually _did_ cover."

_He what now_? Well okay, even if she did give him that much… he threw out her favorite bar blouse just because he could. No to mention, she just woke up with him in bed next to her… when she distinctly remembered checking in and going to bed _alone_.

"Lay off my blouse already. I can't help it if I looked good in it. I also can't help but notice that you took the first opportunity you could find to toss it in the trash. You owe me a new one, by the way." She smirked at the choking sound he made that was perfectly complemented by a look of shocked surprise. "What? After the spending spree you went on with my credit card yesterday? I think we are _far _beyond even on that one. That shirt was ruined with blood stains anyway, thank god. If anything _you _owe _me _for running up my credit card."

"_Your _credit card? Ha! Sure there Mr. _Peter Venkman_! Ghostbusters much? Could you have been any more obvious, or cheesy? I'm shocked that you managed to even get the card in the first place!"

"What can I say? I'm just that good Cal. Oh wait, no. I guess that'd be Mary Jane wouldn't it? Or do you prefer Ms. Watson?" Oh, he had here there. Didn't mean she had to like it though.

"And what the hell were you doing lying in _my _bed anyway? As far as I was concerned I left you far behind me yesterday, Winchester. What you are currently doing is considered stalking in most States, and this sneaking in while I'm sleeping is definitely breaking and entering… It would serve you right if I called the cops on you right this second."

"Hey, don't flatter yourself sweetheart I didn't exactly do it for kicks. Besides, you didn't want to be followed? You shouldn't have kept my wallet and my phone. Go ahead and call the cops. You can explain to them the meaning of the word 'theft' Oh yeah, and if you _ever_ take my car again I swear to _god _you will regret it!"

A slow, smug smile spread upward from her mouth straight to the depths of her clear blue eyes. "Oh, I could _never_ regret that! You're lucky I gave her up so easily… you were right about one thing at least. She is one hell of a ride!"

She'd hoped that egging him on about the car would be enough to distract him from her stitches. Cal had to bend over a bit and hold a hand over her bandage to help ease the pain a little. As good as it felt to shout, it was not helping the injury much. Okay, at all.

It didn't work though. Dean saw it. "You know what, forget the car. Get some pants on or something if it makes you feel better because I am taking a look at that cut whether you like it or not. I will hold you down kicking and screaming if I have to."

"The hell you will. I can look after my own injury thanks."

He laughed at her. The great big jerk had the _gall_ to laugh at her. "You mean like you took care of it yesterday? Did you even bother talking to the doctor before taking off on us yesterday?" "All I needed was a good nights' sleep. I've had it, now I'm fine. There was no need to talk to the doctor."

"Yeah. Sure. Except that the reason we had to call 9-1-1 for you in the first place was because of the fever. The one that hit 105 and stayed there for the first four hours you spent in the hospital. Jesus, do you realize they had to clean that sucker out?"

Her jaw dropped in surprise. Did that really happen?

He didn't stop there though. Now that it was coming out, it was _all _coming out. Whether she liked it or not.

"Damn it Cal, you were delusional, screaming in French, shouting Christo at all the doctors and nurses and thrashing around like you were the freaking kid in the Exorcist. And this whole finding you unconscious, helpless and feverish thing? Gotta tell you, not crazy about it. Actually I hate it." He was right in front of her now. Inches away so that she could feel his body heat radiating straight through the blanket she'd wrapped around herself. And there was angst clouding his eyes which had gone green with the emotion that was coursing through him.

"The worst though, the absolute freaking worst were the tears. Those damned tears of yours cut straight through me and tear me right the hell in half." He stood before her so tense he was practically vibrating from it, clothes and hair mussed from sleep, voice raw and wearing his heart on his sleeve. She'd never seen anything more magnificent in her life. If he'd been looking to make an impact on her, he'd succeeded.

"So," she asked in a near whisper. "if there was an infection and a fever… why is it gone now?" The whole bed shifted as he sat down carefully next to her. "Because, Sammy and I got your meds and brought them to you since you were too darned stubborn to ask for help." "Oh." Her voice came out as small and fragile as she suddenly felt. Well that explained the exhaustion… and the lost time that she hadn't bothered to acknowledge or explain to herself yet. Apparently she'd made a couple of, um, misinformed choices over the last few days… okay, okay… she'd made some absolutely terrible mistakes. Seemed she may owe Dean an apology, or two. If it weren't for him and Sam she may very well have died.

She surprised him by leaning into him and laying her cheek on his shoulder so that they sat flush against each other, side by side. "Hey, you feeling okay?" he asked looking down at her, half expecting her to pass out on him again or something. "Yeah, I think so…" she answered softly "just feeling kind of… broken." He was surprised that she actually sounded it too. So he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her a little closer.

"You'll be fine Cal. We'll lay low here a couple of days so that we can all get a some rest. Then we'll take care of that little vampire problem _together_… and everything'll be okay." For once, she was able to believe it. Looking up into those intense hazel eyes she actually believed that she could trust this guy who was telling her that everything was going to be okay. Trust was not something that had ever come easily to Caitlin O'Sulivan. This Dean guy… he was starting to grow on her… a little.

She had that soft look in her eyes… the one girls get when they want to be kissed… Dean loved that look and he loved that they often got that look around him. He had _never_ expected it to come from Cal. His eyes went round and wide in an innocent kind of 'wow' look before he leaned in toward her. Nice and slow, so that she could turn away if she changed her mind… and also so he could duck away if she tried to hit him for trying it… He was almost there… He could feel her breath caressing his face… their lips almost touching… and then the light above them went on and Sam walked into the room with a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other.

Two sets of eyes pinned him from where Cal and Dean sat on the edge of the bed, and he stopped in his tracks. Suddenly he felt _very _uncomfortable for some reason. "Sooo, um, thought I'd bring these for Cal and, uh, check to make sure no one had lost any body parts… you guys got pretty loud in here with all the shouting, by the way. But… I can see that you've, uh, settled things… so… um…I think I'll go grab myself a coffee now. You guys, uh, want any?" Dean was blushing, Cal was smiling, and Sam… Sam decided to make a quick retreat. _Apparently_ Cal and Dean had managed to find some temporary middle ground.

The Cheshire cat grin that spread from ear to ear as he walked out of the bedroom could have outshone the sun. Things were about to get interesting…


	9. Chapter 9

I still don't own Supernatural... just borrowing the guys for a while hehe...oh yeah, and the car... _love_ that Metallicar!

I've got to appologize for not updating in a while. I've been caught up on another fanfic site where I've posted a few of my stories. There are more chapters to this particular fic and a seventh on the way. I'm actually taking a break from it right now.

Thanks for reading, and a special thanks to those who have reviewed so far. I love reviews... so please don't hesitate to send me your two cents on my little fic. Enjoy the updates!

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****Chapter 9**_

"Dean Winchester, are you blushing because of little old me?" Cal asked him teasingly. Oh, this was _so_ much more fun that beating up on the poor boy. "Mm? Nah, Cal. I don't do blushing." Cute, that was definitely cute. Way more believable when you're cheeks aren't bright flaming pink… but she'd let him have this one on the cuteness factor alone. It was just too damned bad that he hadn't actually kissed her… Then again, it was far more his loss that her own. I mean, she _had_ just spent the better part of the last day or so kissing him in her dreams. Just thinking about it brought a greedy little smile to her lips that made Dean just a little uneasy.

Dean cleared his throat, still very obviously embarrassed, and patted her on the knee that had poked it's way out from under the blanket. "Get something on those legs of yours because if you don't take the time to clean out that cut and change the bandage I most definitely will." Oh? So he was going to play it like that was he? Alright. Can't blame him considering… well, the black eye among other things… he can't hold it against her though. You can't rush a girl into this kind of thing. She's got to be ready for it… especially when she's Cal. Otherwise people get hurt.

She'd let him play the protector… it was actually kind of nice for once...as long as he didn't get all macho on her. Besides, it meant she could ride around in that hot little number he called a car for awhile. The entertainment had just taken a new twist and she wasn't hating that either. Hm, wonder if Sam would be terribly upset if they stayed in the bedroom a while longer… or, you know, for the next three days. Might be a little obvious…

"Cal? Hey, earth to Cal?" He was waving one of those big, warm hands in front of her face, trying to get her attention. "You _sure_ you're okay?" She was acting weirder than usual. "Oh. Yeah. I've never been better." The look she sent his way made him feel like she wanted to eat him alive… in a _very_ good way. Alright Dean, time to retreat. Give the girl some space… Give _yourself_ some space or you may not make it out of this room today… or tomorrow… or the next day… heh heh.

He playfully arched just the one brow at her as he got up. "Alright… I'm giving you five minutes. Meds, clothes and come join Sam'n me in the kitchen." "You giving me orders Winchester? 'Cause that eye of yours is looking a lot better and I wouldn't want…" he cut her off mid-sentence "Call it a friendly request. Five minutes Cal." And then he was gone.

Alright, so she'd given in to weakness. Wasn't her fault. The guy was like chocolate for crying out loud… what woman in her right mind could turn _that_ down? You just can't turn down chocolate. It's _wrong_.

Besides, it would only be until they took care of pain-in-the-keister Earl. Then they would go their separate ways like she and the men in her life always did and Cal's life would go right back to the way it was before… just her, her car, and the open road… just the way she liked it. _C'est ca, croit ce que tu veut ma fille. En autant que tu t'empeche pas de gouter au chocolat interdit… _She would believe anything she had to tell herself to justify kissing that man…

So she took her meds, downed the whole glass of water, pulled on a pair of comfortable boxers and decided to get this whole 'bandage changing' business done and over with. Cal wouldn't kid herself, it would be extremely unpleasant… and she was determined to do it herself… she just hoped there wasn't too much blood because she was already acting way too 'girly' for her own liking. Sure, there were sparks there between her and Dean. That didn't mean that she wanted him to get all 'caveman' with her. Wouldn't do much for the mood if she had to hit him again, would it?

"Your five are almost up Cal!"

"Shut up Dean! You can't rush perfection!"

"Yeah, yeah…whatever"

Sam had a mug of hot coffee waiting for him on the little round table in the kitchen and Dean had never been so happy to see anything in his life. He took a good long swig of it before even sitting down.

"'Time is it?" He asked Sam who was staring intently at his laptop… as usual. "Time for you to get your watch?" The kid didn't even look up for the delivery, just grinned at the screen. "Smart ass." He did look up for that one. "Yeah, well. I learned from the best, didn't I?" and was rewarded with a heartfelt chuckle. "Just tell me when five minutes is almost up, alright? What're you looking at anyway?"

"Well, I figured since we were back in town anyway I should check the missing persons records. See if any of the disappearances had any similarities to the ones Cal was researching before she came to us." "So? Anything?" "Yeah. One girl two days ago, leaving a certain bar that we're familiar with…" Dean nearly dropped his coffee. But that was…

"Wasn't that the night _we _were there?"

"Yeah, it was."

"So, who was the girl?"

"The bartender."

"No. You're kidding right? The bartender?"

"Well, she did look an awful lot like Cal… and there was another just last night. Same story. Pretty brunette with shoulder length hair… disappeared about ten minutes drive away from where Cal's car was."

So it had been closer than they ever could have realized. The damn thing really _was_ following her. "Hey Sam…? I'm thinking we could make this whole stalker vampire thing work for us…" Suddenly Dean had a plan… one he'd keep quiet for awhile until Cal was feeling better. "Feel like doing the 'side-kick geekboy' routine? I think I know how we can flush this thing out."

"You know Dean, if you want a little time alone… all you have to do is say so. You don't have to make up reasons to ask me to get out of here…" Oh, he didn't… but the Cheshire cat grin was back and it was impossible to deny that he had. "You know what? Whatever man." No matter how annoying it was that the tables had turned and Sam was the one picking on him for a change, he couldn't get mad. It had been a very long time since he'd seen the kid this happy. The perma-smile was enough to make up for it.

"Ha ha. _Whatever_? That's the best you can come up with? Dude that's weak." Right, well _that _deserved a good eye rolling. "No, what's _weak_ is this coffee…you've been drinking too many of those half-calf-grande-latte's there Francis." Sam saluted him with his mug as if to say: yup, that's right, I made this coffee! And _you're_ drinking it aren't you? Deciding he'd gone as far as he could with Sam he called out to Cal instead.

"Hey you, in the bedroom! Your five are almost up Cal!"

"Shut up Dean! You can't rush perfection!"

Watch me honey, was what Dean was thinking. But he's a smarter man than to voice thoughts such as those around a girl like Cal. A guy could lose an eye or something that way.

"Yeah, yeah… whatever sweetheart." Was what came out instead.

Sam left a few minutes later with Dean's car keys and a promise not to say anything to Cal yet. Dean had given him the bare basics of the plan: they were going to lure Earl out of hiding. Right to their hotel room door.

As soon as the door had closed Dean made a bee-line for the bedroom. "Alright She-Ra. Enough stalling. It's go time for the bandage changing already!" but when he got to the bedroom door, she wasn't there.

Well, it had only been a couple of minutes. She couldn't have gone _that_ far. Then again… that little escape she made from the hospital had been achieved in just a few minutes… and there really was _no _telling with that woman.

A quick check of the windows told him she hadn't left the apartment… they were still closed and locked. He and Sam would have seen her go through the front door. They'd been sitting in the kitchen with a clear view through the living room. Air vents then? None of them were big enough to climb through. Well except for the one in bathroom where the ceiling fan was… and that just happened to be the one room he hadn't checked yet.

Five steps and he was at the bathroom door… which she had locked. Of course. She was probably climbing up into the ceiling even as he stood there. The thought sent him into a panic that had him banging on the door. "Cal? Hey! Cal! You in there?" Was that sniffling? She was in there alright… but he doubted she was trying to climb anywhere… sounded more like she was crying. One of the many things Dean had learned about that woman over the last few days was that tears and Cal were _never _a good combination.

"Cal? Let me in or I swear to god I'll bust down damned the door!" Well, at least he was being nice about it. A couple of days ago he wouldn't have even bothered with the warning. And if anyone asked the tone of voice he was using was exactly that: a warning. It was most definitely _not _laced with worry. Sure man, whatever you have to tell yourself. As long as she opens the damned door, right?

Cal wasn't stupid. She knew better by now than to call him on a bluff like that because she knew damn well it wasn't a bluff. She'd rather die than admit that she'd been crying though.

Dean heard the click of the lock turning from the inside. Well thank god. At least she wasn't being stubborn about it… and now he knew she hadn't passed out or become delusional again. Visions of that night at the hospital had started dancing in his head when he'd heard her sniffle.

She hesitated just long enough to wipe the tears from her eyes before opening the door. Sometimes it really sucked to be a girl. Hunters were tough. She wore tough as her armor and she'd worked real hard at getting it that way… Of course tough went straight out the freaking window when she'd lifted her shirt and pulled away the little square of gauze that had been taped over her little scratch… Okay. Fine: her big, nasty, jagged cut. Ugh, even just the thought of the blood that had started slowly oozing out from between the stitches was enough to bring tears to her eyes again.

No way she was going to let Dean know she'd been crying.

Sure she wanted to kiss him, but not by playing the emotional girl card. Especially not when the tears were genuine. That whole 'emo' thing was for emergencies and amateurs. She was good at it, but really didn't like falling back on it. Hell, she didn't like doing it _at all_.

So Cal gently put the gauze back on without bothering with the cut. She'd get back to it later.

A quick wipe of her cheeks with the back of her hand.

A tuck of her hair to get it back behind her ears and away from her face.

A cringe as she got a glimpse of her puffy, tear stained face in the mirror – _oh well, it would have to do_

With a quick turn of the knob she was opening the door and brushing past Dean wondering if there was anything stronger in the place than coffee. Like maybe some of her good old friend Jack… or maybe a little vodka that she could mix with OJ… anything to take the edge off… all wishful thinking of course because of the meds. Still, it felt good to be thinking about it.

Dean had to actually step back from the door or get run over when she came out. Her eyes were red, cheeks tearstained and she looked miserable. What the hell had happened in there?

There was a fresh bit of gauze and a roll of surgical tape on the counter, ready to replace the one that he had to assume was still on her. The garbage bin was empty. She hadn't changed her bandage? So why was she crying? Did it hurt that badly? The only way he'd get answers would be to pry them out of her.

Her back was to him when he followed her into the kitchen. She went straight for the coffee maker and started pouring herself one. Steady girl. You can do this. You're just pouring a coffee here. It's not rocket science. But she was shaking and it was real hard not to make a mess as she poured.

Dean was right behind her. She could feel him…right inside her little bubble of personal space. Touching her without touching her. It did _nothing_ to steady her nerves.

"Cal?" It was a hesitation, a question and a demand all in one. "What?" She bit out the word only because she knew he wouldn't let it go unless she said _something_. It came out testy and bitchy and she hated the way she sounded. Didn't matter though. What mattered was getting her shit together so she wasn't acting like such a _girl_. God, she wanted to scream.

"Did you take the meds?" He was being careful… she had hot coffee in her hands and she was emotional. If he _wasn't _careful he might just end up with some nasty burns. "Yes Doctor Dean. I took the meds. Thank you for asking." He watched her very controlled movements as she reached for the cream and the sugar. Okay, so she was in a bad mood… he got that… he just didn't get why… and then he caught the mild shake in her fingers as she stirred the sugar into her coffee.

It was instinctual, reaching for her like that and laying his warm steady hand on her shaking one. An act of comfort from someone who knew what it was like to hide all that from everyone all the time. Cal froze, but didn't pull away. She couldn't have even if she'd wanted to. If she did he would see the tear that had slipped past her defenses and was even now drifting slowly down her cheek to join the others from the bathroom on her t-shirt.

"Cal?" It was a soft breath in her ear. Deliciously warm and a welcome distraction from her own weakness. Why did everything have to be so hard? Head bent forward she leaned in on the counter top and put a hand on her forehead. Maybe she could hold it all in physically… right. Sure. Worth a try though, wasn't it?

Why? Why couldn't she hold all the crap in when this guy was around? What was so different about _this_ particular guy? He was so hard, so weathered… tough wasn't a strong enough word for Dean freaking Winchester. And then, right when she got used to Mr. Tough Guy (who by the way she had _no _trouble dealing with, since guys like that were a dime a dozen in the haunts she liked to play in) he'd pull out this tender, gentle, soft stuff that made her melt faster than a wax crayon on a hotplate. Then she was stuck right where she was now. Not wanting to tell him what's wrong (because Cal could take care of her own damned self) and unable to _not_ tell him.

"Okay, I'll tell you. Just don't laugh because I swear to god if you do that black eye will be the _least_ of your worries." The fight was still there, but she was talking and that was better than she'd given him since she got hurt in the first place. He'd take it. "Okay, got it. I laugh you break both my legs… and anything else you can get your hands on." Insert charming meant-for-hot-chicks grin here. Well played dude, well played.

"I uh, took the thingy off… and uh, there was blood… and stuff… and I just couldn't… y'know…" It was sooo humiliating. She couldn't even look at him. Just stared at her toes hoping the linoleum on the floor would swallow her up whole before he reacted. "So… that's what all this is about? A little blood." Hm, interesting… especially since the blood that had been all over him when they first met hadn't had any effect on her whatsoever. Not to mention the stuff that had been all over _her_ when she'd taken down the Steroid Cowboy at the bar. "Not a little blood. _My_ blood." Oh. Okay. Well _that_ he could do something about. If she'd let him. He was up for a try.

So he took the coffee mug from her hands and set it on the table behind him. Then he put his hands under her arms and lifted her up to sit next to it. Pause. Still have all your parts Dean? So far so good. In fact, she actually helped by knotting the t-shirt up a little ways so that he wouldn't have to push it out of the way to see what he was doing.

He could physically feel her flinch as he pulled the square bit of bandage away. Concerned hazel eyes drifted up to meet scared blue ones. "Hurt?" "Nope." "Good. Drink your coffee and look away. It'll be easier for both of us that way." And for once she actually listened to him.

All in all it looked pretty good. They'd done an excellent job cleaning it out at the hospital. There was no swelling, only a little redness right around where the stitches and the blood were. That was normal. They would have glued it together too, to help it heal faster, if she'd stuck around long enough for the doctors to be certain the infection would stay gone. Oh well. For some reason he didn't think she'd care much about a little scarring. Actually he wouldn't be surprised if she wore it with pride.

It felt like it took forever, wiping it down gently with a damp cloth. His fingers kept accidentally brushing that soft skin… okay maybe not so accidentally. At least not after the first time. He was sitting in a chair with her legs stretched over his while he did what needed to be done. Every once in a while she'd let out a little gasp, or suck in a sharp breath when he touched something sensitive. If this was torture, then he wanted more. It felt like forever but it was really only a minute or two. Before he knew it he was gently pressing the surgical tape down to keep the gauze in place over the stitches so they would stay clean.

"Dean?" When he looked up at her she was leaning forward, hands on the table beside her and a question in her eyes. She didn't even wait for the answer…just leaned in and took what she wanted. The scent of soap, shampoo and skin floated over him as her soft lips touched his. Then there was only _her. _Her lips on his, her hair brushing gently across his face, her fingers running ever so gently through his hair. Yes, oh yes, oh _good god_ yes! Had there been a question? He didn't care, as long as she kept touching him like that… please do not let her stop.

She felt his arms wrap lightly around her, so very careful not to touch anything that might hurt. Making her feel…special. It only made her want more… more of that touch, more of that scent that was purely his, more of those lips. Hell, even more of that 'come hither' look and that damned smile he used on women to get whatever he wanted. She felt stubble drift across her cheek, both soft and rough at the same time. At that very moment she wanted it all and she would have gladly given it all back in return.

She would have too... and so would Dean have…except for the loud, terrifying crash that startled them both. Dean was reaching for the knife he had strapped to his arm and Cal was across the room with a butcher knife in hand. Either Cal's stalker vampire had finally found them or they were in more trouble than they thought… which would not have surprised Dean in the least considering how things had been going so far…


	10. Chapter 10

Winchesters? Who are these Winchesters you keep asking me about? No, I swear they're not hiding here... oh, the car? Um... full scale model Hot Wheels? hehe... okay. Maybe not... oh, alright. You got me. Sam! Dean! The jig is up. Kripke's here and he wants you guys back on set... (What? A girl's got to try doesn't she?) lol

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****Chapter 10**_

The first thing they noticed when they stepped into the living room was that the window was gone. Broken glass had shattered all over the carpet and the fire escape and glittered prettily in the afternoon sun. The curtains had been torn down from their rods and lay shredded…well, pretty much everywhere.

There was a big bald guy in the living room… and Sam… and they were tossing each other around the living room like pro wrestlers on fight night. "Friend of yours Cal?" Dean asked over the racket the two were causing. "Never seen him before in my life. Might be one of Earl's though." Hm, well _that_ could be an issue.

Dude was huge. Like three inches taller than Sammy and wider than both Winchesters put together. The guy was ugly in an 'I married my brothers' sisters' cousin' kind of way and was doing his best imitation of a battering ram.

There was another loud crash as Sam and the giant fought straight through the coffee table. "Hey Dean? A little help here would be nice…" Crash! And there went one of the lamps… Oh well, they didn't really need the light right now anyway, right? "Why Sammy? You're doing great! Oh, but you might want to watch out for…" a big meaty fist connected with the side of Sam's face. Yeah, that's what he should have been watching out for… he'd be feeling _that _one later. Still, he got a solid swing in and managed to knock the guy back a couple of steps. Sam could hold his own… and the practice would do him some good. Man, all they needed was a bit of popcorn…

"Wait, I _have_ seen this guy before… just can't place his face." She was still holding the butcher knife as if she meant to murder something with it. Dean wouldn't put it past her either… he just hoped it would be the pro-wrestler and not _him_. "Oh? Another admirer of yours?" The murderous look she gave him said that he wasn't helping the odds any so he took a quick step back. Just to be sure. Cal just smirked at him and stuck out her tongue. The jerk. "Watch it Dean, a girl might think you were jealous or something." After that kiss? Hell yeah he was jealous! Jealous at the thought of her kissing someone other than him like that. But he wasn't about to admit it.

"Hey Dean! Hate to…" grunt, gasp, toss large bald man through lamp "…interrupt such a stimulating…" tuck and roll then climb over couch and pray he's not too close behind "Dude! Just get this freak off me already will ya?" large hand grabs waistband and pulls back… kick up Sammy, kick up! Oops, couch was turned end over end on that one… Looked like that credit card was about to get maxed out for the damage. Hope Dean still has the backup card.

And speaking of backup: If he didn't get some help with this guy soon Dean had better hope his brother wound up hamburger meat because if Sam had even an ounce of breath left in his body when this was over he'd beat the crap out of Dean for this. With his bare hands.

Dean was eyeing the broken coffee table. Okay, so dude was just a guy… this would be easier than he thought. Besides, nobody beats up his little brother but him. So he sheathed the knife back into its strap on his arm and grabbed one of the broken coffee table legs off the floor. One step, two, then three… swing from the shoulder… one tight graceful arc from hip to said pro-wrestler wannabe's chin… wood connects with flesh and bone and the dude goes soaring across the room to land at Cal's feet. A perfect swing. Well, if the whole hunting thing ever crapped out on him at least he knew he could become a professional baseball player… ha, right. Like that was ever going to happen. But hey, Cal wasn't the only one who could show off every once in a while.

The guy looked up at her from where he lay on the floor and started to get up. He'd obviously found what he'd come for. Unfortunately for him Cal didn't feel the same way. Using the same move that had ended the cowboy's night two days earlier, Cal substituted a beer bottle for the only lamp that had not yet been broken. "Oh my god, that's one of cowboy's buddies from the bar… the one that kept me in shots for the night…" Well, at least she could place where she had seen the face before. "Now, you see what kind of trouble those little ribbon blouses can cause?" Dean, you have _no idea_ how lucky you are that you're such a good kisser.

Now there are a few rules of engagement that should always be respected when approaching an angry woman. First of all, stay away from her chocolate. Dude if the gal needs chocolate just to be able to deal with you you're in some serious trouble. You mess with it and you're putting your life on the line. Not relevant here but essential knowledge all the same.

Also if you guys are arguing, and the subject gets changed, and you both forget why you were fighting in the first place thereby resulting in making up: it is _never_ a good idea to bring up the subject of said argument. A girl will probably get upset about forgetting in the first place and although she won't be proud of it, she'll take it out on you.

Finally: if you really _have _to bring it up… don't make a joke out of it. Dude, that's just crazy. No way you're going to get away with it. Especially if you are Dean Winchester and you purposely threw out said blouse belonging to one Cal O'Sulivan… who just kissed you in the kitchen before you were so rudely interrupted.

All that to say: Cal + a big knife + Dean's smart ass comments death wish.

Except for the fact that their kiss was so fresh in her mind there was nothing standing between her, Dean and certain untimely death. But the kiss _was_ still _very_ fresh. Not even really a memory yet. She could still feel the warmth of his arms around her, and his lips on hers. That, and the monster at her feet was a problem that she couldn't ignore… Were those bite marks on the dude's shoulders? Getting mad at Dean would have to wait. She had bigger fish to fry.

He couldn't believe it. No snappy, insulting comebacks… no dirty looks… no sexy little sneers… she just turned on her heel and all but ran to the bedroom. There was no way Cal would just ignore a baited comment like that. Especially coming from _him_. What the hell was going on with her? So the guy bought her some shots and stared at her cleavage… he, personally, would have liked to beat the guy on principle alone… still, it wasn't anything that would cause Cal to run off. As far as Dean knew the only thing Cal had ever run from had been him. She was usually the one to _start_ the fight.

Then she came running back out with the butcher knife in one hand and the biggest freaking machete he'd ever seen in the other. "Cal? What the hell…?"

She stood with one foot on either side of the dude's face, blade crossed over blade a heartbeat away from the guy's throat. To say that she nudged him with her toe would not have given her the credit she deserved. Oh, she woke him up alright. She needed him conscious and answering some very important questions.

"Hey asshole, where'd you get those bite marks? Hot date last night?" She was baiting him. It wasn't hard to do. Unlike Dean, this guy really _was_ the kind of sleazebag Cal usually ate for breakfast. "Yeah, that's right sugar. I had a hot date with your momma last night, that's where I got 'em." There was contempt in the guy's voice but all Cal did was smile and watch his face twist up, painful and ugly, as she made sure he knew she meant business. There was a drop of blood marking twin spots where her blades had broken the surface of his skin.

"Man, you are dumber than you look if you think insulting her mother is going to get you anywhere good. Didn't you see what she did to my eye for saving her ass back at the bar the other night?" What? He was just trying to help the guy out… okay, not really. He was actually kind of hoping to get her pissed off again… he was really starting to enjoy watching Cal fight. Cal was in work mode though, completely expressionless and in complete control over herself and the behemoth of a man beneath her.

"That's funny, because the way I remember it the little lady beat my buddy Ed to hell then took you down a notch for having the nerve to get a shot in during the fight. That about cover it pretty boy?" Oh that son of a…! Dean still had the piece of table in his hands and was _fully_ prepared to use it, except that Sam had stepped in front of him and wouldn't let him get close enough.

"First of all Bubba _no one_ calls me 'little lady'. You call me that again and you'll be eating your meals through a straw for the foreseeable future. Got me?" Well, he wasn't stupid. When he nodded the fear in his eyes told her she'd put her point across. "Secondly, I don't think Ed is the reason you decided to pay us a little visit tonight. Is he?" This time it was a shake of the head. So she was right then… but to what extent?

"Where did those bite marks come from?" Dean was in _love_. The girl was wearing a pair of little red boxers and an AC/DC t-shirt, she was wielding a machete and a butcher knife like they were a part of her body, she was interrogating a man four times her size with what were probably love bites from a vampire on his shoulders and she wasn't even breaking a sweat. It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. "Uh, like I told you, I had a hot date…" The fear wasn't strong enough to keep him from lying. He was learning though, the guy had very wisely left Cal's mother out of this one.

"Bullshit." There was a nasty scraping sound as one blade rubbed against the other. Psychological torture… smart girl. "Okay, okay! Sally did it. Sally gave 'em to me!" The bigger they are… the easier they are to scare apparently. "And Sally is….?" "The bartender." Sam answered Cal for him. "She went missing after we left the bar that night." Sally? But she'd told Dean her name was Samantha…

"Right. So, my friend, does Sally happen to have a friend named Earl by any chance?" Cal betrayed nothing of what she was feeling. Confusion, anger, pain, murderous intent… it all stayed locked behind her calm, tough as nails exterior. Although even she was more than a little shocked when wrestler-wannabe dude started panicking.

"Earl? Jesus, not Earl! That guy is freaking psychotic! He did this thing… to this girl… ugh, I'll never forget… Lady, do what you want with me but I don't ever want to see that Earl guy again. Not unless it's to bring you back to him like he told me to."

"Yeah, well you're S.O.L man 'cause that ain't happening."

"Dean, stay out of it!" she never took her eyes of fugly. "And you… you're going to be a good boy and take a message back to Earl for me. Hmm?"

He just nodded from his spot between her feet. Apparently he found Cal scarier than Earl because he didn't even bother to argue.

"You tell that scumbag of a vampire that he has a funny way of showing his affection. Tell Earl that if he wants me he's going to have to come and get me himself. Otherwise his delivery boys are going to start coming back to him. In. Pieces."

You could hear the nervous gulp from across the room.

"Now get the hell out of here. I catch you sniffing around me again and you'll regret it more'n you do now. Go!"

You didn't have to tell the guy twice. He was out the window and out of sight before she could blink.


	11. Chapter 11

Same old deal. Don't own anything supernatural related... though I wouldn't mind borrowing the car for a little while... I can? Awesom! um... I don't suppose Dean comes with the car, does he?

So, I've been getting alot of requests on the other site asking for more Dean/Cal kissing action... Just thought I'd ask if anyone here is interested in seeing more of that too? Oh yeah, and just a heads up that things may get a little mushy in this chapter.

Please, review and share your thoughts... and most importantly enjoy!

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****Chapter 11**_

"Well _that_ went well." Always the cool one under pressure. Gotta love that about Dean.

"We're going to have to move. Now." Cal on the other hand, not quite her usual calm if hostile self. No, she was anxious and worried and yes, definitely scared.

"Yeah, I know. Look at this room. It's completely trashed. I think it's pretty safe to say we won't be getting the deposit back on this one…" If he was trying to make her feel better it wasn't working. She was too uptight for a little goofing around to do the trick.

"No Dean, not because of the room. Because when Earl gets my message he'll be pissed. Really, really pissed. He _will _come after me himself. You don't want to be around Earl when he gets pissed and I am in no shape to kick his ass right now. We're sitting ducks here." Yup, that was fear alright.

"Yeah, about Earl. I think you're going to have to fill us in about this little 'problem' you asked us to help you with." Cal didn't get scared. She _wasn't_ scared. It was just… restlessness. Too much lying around because of that little injury of hers… yeah, that's it. "Dean, I swear I will tell you anything you want to know. Later." Ah hell, who was she kidding. Cal was _terrified._

"Later? Later when? Later when the next giant wrestler or cowboy comes crashing through the window… or the door… or hell, the size they make 'em around here maybe the next guy will just _skip_ the whole trying to find a way in part and make a hole in the damned wall. I don't want to wait that long to find out what exactly we're up against Cal!"

"Later at the next motel damn it! Tonight. In the car Dean, if it'll make you feel better. I promise. Right now I just want to get the hell out of Dodge, alright?" She was slowly but surely losing it, and hating every second that took her closer to that edge. The look Dean gave her made her want to squirm. Of course, she didn't. It was enough she couldn't control the fear or the weakness, _yet_. Cal would be damned if she was going to give him the satisfaction of squirming like a little kid just because of a look.

The standoff didn't last long. All he had to do was look at her to see how tired and weak she really was. That little stunt with the machete, the butcher knife and the angry wrestler-type guy had taken a lot out of her… whether she cared to admit it or not. "I'll take later then. In the car." "Whatever Dean, let's just get the hell out of here." God, she sounded tired. Even to her own ears.

The deep breath he took told her his mind was made up. "Sam?" He never took his eyes off of her. "Yeah?" Dean tossed Sam the keys to the Impala. "There might be others and they might be watching the hotel. Load up the car with the heavy stuff and take a drive. We'll meet you two blocks over at that park we saw on the way in. Ten minutes." Sam just smiled.

"Hey, you be careful with my car Sam." The smile got wider as he picked up the bags and headed for the door. "Sammy? I mean it!" If Sam heard him he didn't let on as he hummed his way down the carpeted hallway to the elevators. Dean couldn't fool him. Oh, he could try to distract him with the threat of other vampires hanging around…It was definitely a concern…and that last little bit about the car… but Sam knew better. His brother wanted some time alone with Cal. She wouldn't let him take care of her if there was an audience around.

As soon as Sam was out of earshot and they were alone Cal dropped the death grip she still had on the knives. There was a loud clang as metal hit metal and floor. Then there was just the sound of the wind whistling through the broken window and the wreckage of the room and her heavy ragged breathing.

Two steps… Dean pulled Cal into his arms. Now, normally she didn't do mushy but he was so big… and _firm._ It was like resting against a wall. The kind that you duck behind to avoid getting shot at. The brick and mortar kind that was almost guaranteed to keep you safe through just about anything.

Of course, most walls didn't hold you or run their hands up and down your back to make you feel better. _Hers _did though. In fact, he was looking down at her with a smoldering look that could set the world on fire given enough kindling… "You okay Cal?" Bless the man for putting up with her and trying to take care of her.

"Yeah… I'm fine...really." sure you are Cal. You're only falling apart inside and out. Oh yeah, and being chased by a nasty, sadistic vampire whose current main goal in life is to make you into one of his obedient little vampire harem girls. Right. Good thing you haven't told _Dean_ that part yet. And don't forget the fact that you're too weak to defend yourself. That's an important one. Sure, Cal. You're doing just fine aren't you?

She dropped the bravado and leaned into him. "Okay, not really."

"Huh, well there's a shock." She gave him a dry look. "No, I meant that you're admitting to it." She punched him lightly in the shoulder, but there was no oomph to it. Still, he laughed and pulled her a little closer.

"Ah, we have nothing to worry about Cal. You know why he sent someone to come after you? Because he's scared of you. Oh yeah. You are one scary chic Caitlin O'Sulivan. Take it from a man who knows from experience." "Gee thanks Dean. I've got to say… nothing like a compliment to make a girl feel all soft and mushy inside, eh?" Still, it had been what she needed to hear. She needed that tough girl exterior if she was going to face the world alone. Now, _and_ when it was all over.

She pulled away from him a little and looked him over considering… "You know Winchester… a girl could get used to having a guy like you around." That smile of his was back… and it brought out the little dimpled one that Cal used to melt men into playdoh. It made him want to do things… hot, steamy, sweaty things that they really didn't have time for at the moment. Still… he wanted. Badly. Her.

And Dean wasn't the only one who wanted. Cal's arms were wrapped around his waist again. She was giving him _that look_ and it was killing him in the best of ways. Just one kiss… one little kiss… surely they had time for one little kiss? Of course they did. I mean, how long could one kiss take really?

The thing Cal found the most endearing about Dean was that wide eyed innocent child-like look he got when he was leaning in to kiss her. It never lasted longer than a heartbeat but it undid her every time. Their first kiss had been her doing. Now that Dean was making the move she found she couldn't breathe. He moved in so slowly… determined to make the moment last as long as he could… the anticipation alone had her trembling.

When finally their lips met and parted the heat their kiss generated was enough to make them both spontaneously combust. Dean's want had quickly turned to need. He couldn't get enough of her. The way she tasted… the sweet scent and softness of her skin… the little sounds she made as he deepened the kiss… He couldn't think… could barely breathe… Bedroom. Definitely bedroom. No wait. Kitchen. No, no, too far. Right here. Yeah, definitely right here. "Oh god, Cal!"

Of all the men she had kissed in all the places she had been Dean was by far the very best. He held her as if he thought she would break. Carefully, gently… as if she were made of glass. Well, until the kiss started… Dean Winchester was _definitely_ better than chocolate!

Those eyes of his. She didn't know how he ever got by hiding all that emotion, all that _passion_ when everything he felt shone right there for the world to see. Sam knew… she was positive of it. As for the rest of 'em… well they just didn't care enough to look and see. Cal cared though. A little too much, she thought to herself ruefully. You better watch yourself around this one Cal. If you care about him then he can hurt you…

But that didn't matter right now. What mattered was that mouth… and those hands… those arms that cradled her against him and those eyes… _good god those eyes_… she wasn't mush… no she was a _flame. _

If it weren't for the fact that they had to get out of there, away from there, she'd be tempted to lure him to the bedroom… but they had to go. They should have left at the same time Sam did. They needed to cover tracks and put some distance between themselves and that place if she was ever going to get better enough to finish Earl off. "Dean?" pulling away as gently as possible, she held off the man who was very quickly becoming a necessity in her life. Quite a feat, even for Dean Winchester.

"No, no. More. We _definitely _need to do more of that." Even as he disagreed with her actions he knew she was right. They did not have time for this. One last anguished look at those kiss-swollen lips of hers… "Oh, alright." She turned toward the bedroom to get her stuff and felt a large, warm hand swat her bum. "Go get some pants on She-Ra. You're killing me here." Oh wow, Cal was capable of giggling. Well he didn't hate it. Actually, between the dimples, the kisses and the giggles Dean could definitely get used to having that woman around.

Now if he could only keep that stubborn, ass-kicking side of hers directed somewhere other than at _him_ then they would be all set.

"Oh, and Cal… don't even _think_ about carrying those bags. I'm doing it. I'll will not stand by and watch you pop your stitches just because you're being stubborn." Well, okay. Maybe Dean was right. Just this once she'd let him get away with it. After all, the goal was to get better and kick some vampire derriere. Not make herself worse.


	12. Chapter 12

Alright, last update for tonight... I swear. This chapter is all about background on Earl and Cal. How they met and why he's chasing her down. It's a little different than what I've been doing with this fic so far.

Feel free to review and let me know what you think! Enjoy:

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****Chapter 12**_

Well, it felt better to be on the road at least. Even if it wouldn't be for long. Dean had wisely decided to stow the Metallica tape for a while in deference to Cal's moodiness. So the ride wasn't as tense as the last one they'd taken together.

Sam and Dean had been walking on egg shells around her ever since she'd lifted her machete blade and let the angry-wrestler type dude get away. Not exactly something she was happy about but at the time there had been no other choice.

Dean didn't understand why she'd put herself on the line like that. Earl was a nasty character on a _good_ day. On a bad day he was nothing short of pure evil. Turning all of his wrath directly on to herself like that was more than a little dangerous. Sam and Dean may be seasoned hunters of the supernatural but they were still fairly inexperienced with the vampire phenomena. I mean, one little run-in with a small and relatively peaceful group of five or six is not really that big a deal in the grand scheme of things.

Still… the guys knew enough about them to understand the risk she was taking without having to be told. Neither were happy about it.

Earl had a nest of fifteen that she had seen with her own eyes, and she knew for a fact that there were at least ten more that constantly came and went. Constantly roaming. Looking for new places for the group to feed. His 'family' was strong, bloodthirsty and ruthless. There was only one rule: Earl made the rules. His word is law. What the guy wanted he got, no matter who or what the cost may be to get it. And if he didn't get what he wanted heads rolled…. Literally.

At the moment what Earl wanted was Cal. Badly.

Too bad for him Cal didn't feel the same.

The moment Dean was behind the wheel and the Impala shifted into drive the questions started. Gently at first… until they realized she was still trying to stall them. Again. Then they became relentless. Especially Dean. It was the only way to get the whole story to come out.

It had been another version of the same old story. Small town USA suddenly suffers from the shock of bizarre disappearances in their little law abiding community. All she'd had to go on were a couple of missing girls who had suddenly disappeared without a trace one night walking home from cheerleading practice.

At that point it could have been a number of different things… including a demon.

The local bar had been the perfect place for intel on urban legends for the area. Get a few beers into a few guys, flirt them up a little…or a lot depending on what the situation called for and how good-looking the local wildlife were. It was amazing what a few carefully placed innocent little questions could dig up. Especially when paired with a little cleavage and a dimpled smile. This time she was digging up a whole lot of nothing.

Well...not exactly _nothing_. Just not anything to do with the hunt. There was plenty of _something_ for her to do with her evening should the hunt turn out to be a bust. Right at the top of that very interesting list was Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome. Unfortunately for Cal _He_ turned out to be Earl.

Oh, he was _everything_ Cal usually went for; at least in the looks department. Turned out the guy was funny and charming too. The man knew how to dance… and how to compliment her in all the right ways. She should have known there was something wrong with him… should have been able to tell from the get-go. There was _always_ something fundamentally effed up with the ones who seemed perfect. It was a lesson Cal had learned… hard…when she was very young.

Earl had a dark side and it had to do with women. Unfortunately for Cal she didn't find out about it until they were back at the motel in the heat of a 'clothing optional' kind of moment.

The man may have been nice on the eyes… but window dressing meant nothing, _nothing_ to Cal when a man turned violent on her. All it took to bring it out in him was a 'no'. She had the nerve to refuse him something. Didn't matter what it was. As far as Cal was concerned all that mattered was the vicious backhand he managed to get in. The bastard split her lip open with the ring he'd been wearing.

She'd caught the flash of fangs as her head whipped to the side.

All the weapons training in the universe does not make you a good hunter… none of it means a damned thing if you can't act your way to the information you need. Cal… well Cal was an _excellent_ actress. So Earl never saw what was coming when she suddenly became quiet and submissive. All she was doing was buying time so she could get to her bag. Oh she had a crossbow and arrow with this _Earl'_s name written _all over it._

The quiet, obedient act lasted all of, oh: forty-five seconds. She got up and dug into her bag for something… and produced the crossbow. Well, Earl was insulted. A _woman_ was going to try and take _him _down? Dude rushed her _fully_ intending to take the weapon away and teach her a thing or two in the process and wasn't afraid to tell her as he did either. Big mistake. Huge. Of course, in his defense he wasn't expecting to find himself pinned to the wall with an arrow sticking out of his chest and holding him firmly in place.

Cal would have given him the close shave he deserved right then and there but she wasn't equipped for it. Vampires weren't her usual gig. So instead she gave him a quick lesson on the reasons why it was _never_ a good idea to piss a girl off by hitting her and then pumped another couple of arrows in him for good measure.

Her mistake had been leaving him there. Earl did not take 'no' well at any time. When it came from a girl who could kick his ass he took it personally.

The vampires had been following her ever since. They'd only managed to catch up with her once and when they _did _they caught her off guard and dragged her back to the nest. Cal had been lucky to get away without even so much as a scratch. Of course that had _a lot _to do with the fact that she had taken to carrying dead man's blood around with her. Just in case. She'd slipped it into their drinks. They never saw it coming.

That's when she started carrying the machete around with her. That's when she realized she'd need more than weapons to take care of Earl and his group. She needed _help._ Ugh, even just the thought of the word left a bad taste in her mouth… still she was no fool and had no interest in becoming some macho sadist vampire's plaything. Go big or go home Cal. That's when she started tracking down the Winchesters.

It had been a gamble… chasing down this near-myth of demon hunting brothers. The stories about Dean alone were pretty unbelievable. Taking on a Wendigo with a flare gun? The guy _couldn't_ be for real! And Sam… he was supposed to be something special… although no one really knew how or why. Just that it had something to do with the fire demon that had killed his mother and girlfriend.

When she finally caught up with them… well she had been pleasantly surprised. Digging through six feet of dirt to get to a casket was hard work no matter how you cut it. Doing it when the ground was frozen beneath you with a very angry spirit viciously attacking you for the very thought of 'salt and burn'? Impressive just wasn't the word.

Then she had to go and muck it all up by helping and getting herself hurt. Well, at least the knife she had been carrying hadn't been the machete. Had she been carrying it instead stitches would have been the _least_ of her worries.

"So that thing you wore to the bar… it wasn't just to get a rise out of me was it? Or even to help you get intel from the men at the bar. You were trying to draw him out weren't you?" If she thought annoyed Dean hauling her out of the backseat of the car was intimidating then angry Dean was downright scary. "That was the plan." "It was a death wish was what it was." He bit out, temper barely in check. Rage was burning in those eyes of his. Cal was actually starting to worry.

"So then you must have known that the big guy at the bar was part of this." Thank god for Sam. At least he was a distraction. Plus he was the only one in the car that was anything near calm. Now him she could rationalize with. "I wasn't positive until after the fight started. It wasn't until he got up from that smashed table that I knew for sure."

"Oh, but you didn't need my help with that because you had the guy right?" Alright, so maybe Sam wasn't as distracting as Cal thought. Dean was still livid. "As a matter of fact…" Well what? She just didn't _do_ 'back down'. Cal just wasn't that kind of girl. "Don't say it. Cal _Do not _finish that!" If looks could kill she would have been struck down right then and there. "When the _hell _were you planning to tell us that you knew the steroid-cowboy-from-hell was in on this?"

"Oh, I don't know Dean… somewhere between nearly bleeding to death, the hotel room being trashed and those damn kisses of yours." Urg. She was tired, cranky and sore. A bed… her kingdom for a bed. Just a little more sleep… but sleep was not on the agenda yet. Dean was angry, and hurt, and _loud. _Stupid Metallica was in the tape deck again in an effort to help him calm down. Yeah… those kisses were good alright…but were they worth putting up with _this?_ At that very moment she wasn't so sure.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Same old... Supernatural still belongs to Kripke. Just borrowing the boys and the car for a bit.

Thank you for the wonderful reviews. Sorry for the long wait for updates... hope these next couple of chapters were worth the wait.

As always... please review!

Gen

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_**Chapter 13**_

It didn't matter how angry Dean was with her… didn't matter that he wasn't done questioning her or tearing a strip out of her. Cal was so far beyond exhaustion that she just fell asleep. Dean ranting, Metallica blasting, stitches hurting, vampires chasing not withstanding. Not only did she just drift right off to la-la land as Dean was ranting away about how goddamned crazy-suicidal she was… but she slept straight through the ride, the check-in at the motel and right on for another twenty four hours past that.

Sam had seen it coming. Too much had happened to quickly to the poor girl… and that injury had only made it all that much worse. Harder for her to bear. He was actually kind of glad she'd passed out like that. Even injured it was hard to keep up with her… This way it gave him a little time. Time to calm Dean down, time for Cal to heal, time for them to work out a plan of action. When the time came to confront those vampires they'd be prepared. He was going to see to it personally.

Dean on the other hand… well he was the closest thing to being a wreck that he'd ever been. He hadn't been able to put in more than thirty consecutive minutes of sleep since first running into Cal… had it only been days ago?... Damn.

Emotionally he was going insane. The anger was so strong that more than once he wanted to storm over to the bed where she now lay just to shake her, wake her up and yell at her some more. Then he'd look at her and get worried because she'd been asleep so long. That led to touching her forehead lightly to be sure she wasn't feverish again… all they freaking needed was a relapse of infection now. Then he would start thinking about how soft her skin was… and how gentle she got when he was kissing her… and how amazing she was when she was fighting something… or, you know, _him_. It was a vicious cycle and it was tearing him apart.

If it weren't for Sam he would never have managed to pull it together long enough to focus on the job at hand. Thank God for the psychic wonder, side-kick geek boy. He'd never been more grateful for Sam's single minded determination to get all the facts before going into the hunt.

The plan he'd been hatching back at that fancy hotel Cal had checked herself into had gone to hell the second she let their little unexpected visitor go. He'd intended to draw Earl's attention off of her and onto himself. He'd been hoping to kill the vampire a safe distance away from her.

Oh, Cal could probably do this on her own. He knew she could take care of herself… knew she could have finished this Earl… thing… if she'd been equipped for it months ago when he first revealed himself to her. Things had been different back then though. Alright, maybe not _that_ different. She'd come looking for Sam and him for a reason hadn't she? She needed help.

Months of running from the damned things had worn her out. Fear had slowly begun to break down her defenses. Then the last few days happened…

As things stood now, Dean doubted she'd be able to swat a mosquito let alone take down a vampire. She put up a good front alright. Damn near even had him fooled for a while there. But that was before the hospital… before she admitted to him that she really wasn't okay. Before she passed out on them three times in as many days. The chic was a menace to herself. She'd be lucky if he _ever_ let her out of his sights again. If _anyone_ needed protection it was Cal… especially from herself.

Although he couldn't be sure there wouldn't be any unexpected, pointy-toothed visitors, at least when she was unconscious she couldn't get herself into trouble again… or give him a black eye… or wield a knife (or a freaking machete for that matter…) and get herself hurt again. Of course it _also_ meant she couldn't kiss him either… Maybe he ought to wake her up…you know, to make sure she was okay…

"Leave her be man. She's been through enough lately. Let her rest." Sam, the eternal voice of reason with impeccable timing, as usual.

"Dude, don't you have something to look up on your laptop or something? You really so bored that you gotta make _me _your entertainment?"

"I don't know Dean. Are _you _so bored you have to make a sleeping girl _yours_?"

Dean sputtered, upset he'd been caught in the act. "I wasn't…" he sputtered. When all else fails _deny everything_. Damn, he didn't realize he was being so transparent.

"Come on Dean. I wasn't even looking at you and I knew what you were thinking about."

"Yeah well, that's just because you have that psychic wonder thing going on in that freaky head of yours." He grumbled moodily. "Cal sure as hell has no idea what I'm thinking about right now." If she _did _she'd be awake right now and she'd kick Sam out of the motel room for awhile and then they'd…" Sam interrupted him but Dean didn't even notice. He was too busy thinking interesting thoughts. Very interesting thoughts involving Cal, the bed she was in… and a lot less clothing.

"Dean! Did you even hear a word I just said?" Sam's angry voice finally cut through his Technicolor musings. "Hm? Yeah, sure. Of course I did. Something about… something…" He was staring at Cal now, trying to will her to wake up.

"Man, you are _unbelievable!_ Use that upstairs brain of yours for once, will you? There are giant, ruthless, sadistic vampires after that girl right now. I seriously doubt that sex with you is anywhere near the top of Cal's 'to do' list right now."

"Really Sam?" Dean asked thinking of the kisses they'd already shared. "I beg to differ." Insert cocky, overconfident, wolfish grin here.

"I'm serious man. You need to focus. That 'other brain' of yours could get one of us killed if you can't think past fantasizing about her."

Well, the kid had a point… and yeah, he really should make the effort to focus beyond naked, sweaty thoughts… but she was just so _Mmm_!

A very groggy, grumpy female voice interrupted his extremely dangerous thoughts. "If the two of you don't shut up and let a girl sleep…" she left the threat open to imagination, not even bothering to open her eyes for the delivery. "…If you two don't stop talking about me like I'm not here you're both going to get the ass-kicking of your lives…" Cal pulled the blankets over her head and curled into a ball, determined to go back to sleep again. Not before one last warning though… "And Dean, if you don't clean up those thoughts of yours pronto I guarantee you that you will _never_ get laid. A couple of kisses does not a Cassanova make. Period."

Dean threw his hands up in the air in frustration and let them fall back down again, pinning Sam with a glare. Sam just gave him a "Hey man, not _my_ fault" look and smiled cheekily before going back to what he had been doing on the laptop. Dean rolled his eyes. Alright then, if that's how it was going to be… better roll with it and see where it would take him. At least he had something to do. Something to _hunt _to get his mind of _her_.

Leaning in to look over Sam's shoulder, Dean got a good look at what he was doing. "All right, fine. What d'you come up with?" Sam just smiled. He sure hoped that Cal stuck around a while when this was all over. She was one hell of an influence over Dean.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Chapter 15**_

She was lying in a bed she didn't recognize in clothes that weren't all hers smelling of hospital (eck) and (mmm) aftershave… she wanted to sleep forever. There were these two deep voices whispering somewhere to her right making it impossible for her to do that though… and it was making her cranky.

A little tossing, a little turning. Pulling the blankets over her head didn't help, and neither did the pillow. Just as she was about to give up the fight and get up someone made the choice for her.

"Look Sam, it's been a whole day… twenty-four freaking hours. If I don't wake her up now she may never get up again!" Okay, melodramatic much?! Wasn't _she _supposed to be the girl in this little trio? Well Sam must've given Dean the go ahead… or maybe he just decided to ignore his little brothers' opinion and do it anyway.

There was the loud sound of metal hooks sliding against a cheap metal rod as the curtains were pulled all the way open letting bright midday sunlight flood the room. To Cal, even with eyes closed, it was like someone turned on a gigantic spotlight. Her eyes burned and her head throbbed. A loud groan to express just exactly what she thought about the sun and she was burrowing deep under motel blankets trying to block the damned thing out again.

Well she succeeded. Those blankets may be cheap but they were also thick. Perfect for blocking out sunlight in the case of hangover-induced type allergic reactions to sunlight such as headaches and brain implosions. Which ironically just happened to be her current reaction to a certain guy that wouldn't let a girl alone. They were perfect all right. Until someone yanked them right the hell off of you.

"Rise and shine She-Ra!" Good God, please let the man not be one of those incredibly annoying, _perky _morning people. She curled up into a tight little ball and covered her face with one arm. "Come on man! Let a girl get her beauty sleep already. It's got to be the butt-crack of dawn!"

See now, normally Dean would be the one grumbling about the wake up call. Watching Cal go through it was just plain funny. Oh, sure… he could sympathize with the whole 'not a morning person' thing. But it was now officially lunch time, a good thirty-odd hours after she'd passed out from exhaustion in the car.

"Up and at 'em Cal. You've just slept a whole day away. Any more beauty sleep and you'll turn into Barbie." Ugh, you couldn't get more evil than that.

She was cute curled up in a ball like that, reminding him that she really _was_ a girl after all. Despite the way she acted most of the time.

"Go to Hell Dean."

Okay. That right there, not so cute. The girl was getting up and she was doing it _now_.

He'd been tempted for hours now… tempted to do something that just might get him killed. He couldn't help it… knew it would annoy the hell out of her… and yet he did it anyway…because he knew it would work.

He just barely touched a the tip of his finger to the soft skin of her side. He had a feeling she might be ticklish, and he'd been right. Good thing he already knew how fast her reflexes were otherwise he would have probably had a broken finger to nurse. It got her up though.

Face hiding behind a mass of sleep mussed hair she moaned and groaned her way to the bathroom for a shower and a change of clothes. "One word Winchester and I will _hurt _you." Of course… she didn't say he couldn't snicker… or laugh… or get a gratuitous ogle in while she bent over to rummage through her bag.

"Coffee?" It wasn't a question, it was a request when she stepped out of the bathroom a good forty five minutes later. God it felt good to be clean again! Dean just nodded toward a steaming take-out cup flanked by creamers and sugar packets. "Wasn't sure what you put in it. Might have to nuke it too. You took a lot longer than we thought you would." Whatever. After the last couple of days she deserved to be able to take her time waking up. Now that she was awake there wouldn't be any more time to relax. There was work to do.

She made a face, wrinkling her nose, as she took her first sip of coffee black to start the caffeine buzz before adding the cream and sugar to it. God the stuff was raunchy! The things she missed about living a normal life…

The guys were sitting at the small round table by the window amidst a mess of papers and their laptop in the center of it all. "Research?" She asked casually. "Yeah, we thought we'd get a head start figuring what we're up against with this Earl guy." "Um, why didn't you ask me? I've been waist deep in this stuff for months now. I can tell you anything you need to know… stuff you could never pull off the internet or out of a book. I _am _the information source on this one."

"Well now, y'see the thought had occurred to me… a couple of days back actually… Unfortunately what with you being unconscious three quarters of the time and running away when you're not passing out on us that particular plan of action wasn't exactly available to us. Least not until now."

"You should have got me up." She was bordering on accusation. Right, like he wouldn't have preferred to do that in the first place.

"Hey, _I_ wanted to. About twelve hours ago actually. _Sammy _here thought it would be nice of us to let you sleep. Truth is I think you scare him. Every time we made any kind of noise in here you threatened to hurt us. Personally? I'm used to it by now…"

"Twelve hours? Are you serious? How long was I out exactly?" Crap, this wasn't good. She couldn't afford that kind of time… _they _couldn't afford that kind of time. Not around here…

"About thirty hours straight. Plus the time at the hospital and in that fancy hotel room of yours."

"WHAT!?!" Thirty… they'd let her… thirty!?! "You let me sleep an entire day away? What is _wrong _with you Winchester?" Man was _she _high strung first thing in the morning. "Y'see Sam? I _told_ you I should have done it hours ago."

"We've got to pack up and hit the road. _Damn! _One of Earl's goons will have found us by now. We're smack in the middle of feeding ground. Those suckers are everywhere around here. We're lucky they haven't crashed the party yet. If we don't leave now we might not be able to get away at all."

Well _she _was back to her usual charming self. Nice to know she was on the mend finally. He'd have to watch himself in case she tried to deck him again. "Whoa now. I get the concern…but isn't the whole point to draw them out? I mean isn't it easier to deal with them when they're away from the nest and vulnerable?'

You don't get it do you? There are dozens, yes plural, _dozens_ of them out there and they come around here when they're hungry. We're sitting ducks right now. There's too many of them and they're too strong for just the three of us. For months now I've been running from them… baiting them…trying to get Earl to come after me himself. The thing is he always brings a couple of friends with him when he does. Insurance against being pinned to a wall by girl with a cross bow I guess. Whatever… Point is we needed to draw him out. I've done that. As soon as he's done messing up Mr. Smackdown for what happened at the hotel he'll come for me. We need to get as far away from here as possible to bring the numbers to a more level playing field. The farther away we are the harder it'll be for him to bring more than a couple of his followers with him."

Once Earl dies the rest of them will scatter. They'll be easier to deal with separately. That she could do on her own. But Sam and Dean didn't need to know that until later. Like when she was driving away after this was over.

"Okay. Far away. Got it. How far are we talking exactly?" Dean was business as usual She wanted to call the shots, fine. He was listening. For now. Of course, it was moments like these when he let his guard down that she managed to floor him. He never saw it coming… though he should have expected trouble when he caught her impish little smirk. It always led to trouble.

"Canada"

"Excuse me?" She didn't even blink. Shouldn't a girl at least have the common courtesy to blink when she's ripping the ground right out from under you? Then again… Cal had never show any signs of playing by any rules other than her own… and even those tended to change to suit her mood.

"You heard me." She was picking up steam, packing up her stuff. Getting ready to go. She _had _to be joking, right?

Sam was laughing… as usual. He _would_ think this was funny. Of course he probably thought she was trying to pull a fast one on them to get him going again. Didn't last long though. Not at the rate she was packing. "Oh God. Cal… you're serious? _Canada_?"

"Yeah. My parents old place. Dad willed it to me when he… well anyway. Vampires are what he does… _did_ best. It's as far away from here as I can get. Earl'll be completely isolated from his little group. It's perfect." Okay, so she was holding something back. The way she saw it, wasn't important just yet so they didn't really need to know did they? She'd acted the girl enough over the last few days to want to avoid another go round by hashing out her twisted family history of death and loss.

"So what then? We put in a full tank of gas, drive around a bit to make sure they know where we are so we'll be followed, cross into Canada and _then_ waste the damned thing? Just like that?"

"Yup"

"You're crazy"

"Nope"

The hell she wasn't.

"Okay, lets just forget the fact that we could go pretty much anywhere else in the country to accomplish the same thing for a second. How the hell do you expect us to get past the border with a trunk full of guns, knives and ammo?"

"Easy, you don't."

"This is what _I'm saying._"

"No Dean, I mean you leave the car and the bulk of the toys here. Take what you need, stash it in _my _car to get across then when it's done I drive you boys back."

"What!?" the girl needed a straight jacket, a padded room and a couple of little men in lab coats. _Seriously_. Leave his baby? She really was insane.

"Are you out of your mind?" this time it was Sammy. Thank God. About time he started taking his side on things. "Not only will that leave Dean and I _completely _vulnerable… but you're expecting _ Dean _to just park the Impala somewhere and leave it indefinitely? Not to mention… we're not even sure we can get past the border in the first place. Last I heard they get a little upset if they find out you're flashing around fake ID."

"You won't be vulnerable. I grew up there, I still go back and forth a lot. You think they don't have ghosts and things that go bump in the night up there too?"

"So?"

"So, not only can I provide you with genuinehomegrown Canadian fake Id to get past the border patrol, but my Stang is retrofitted with hiding spots for all _my_ toys in case the car gets searched on the cross over. Plenty of room to hide whatever you want to bring with the added bonus of easier access then the trunk on the Impala."

"Okay… keep talking."

Looked like Sam was in. Now the hard part… getting Dean in on it. Months of running, baiting, luring… if he said no now she'd be going it alone and she really didn't want to.

"As for the car… well you've got to know someone you can park it with for a few days. Someone you can trust."

"That would be Bobby's place…" Well, at least she had him thinking about it. She did just kind of spring it on them out of nowhere. The room went dead quiet as the boys considered what she was suggesting they do.

"Nope. Still don't like it." Dean was shaking his head before the words even came out. "There's got to be someplace State-side that we can do this." But it was important to her that it be done _there. _Because of the past, for her father… for her mom.

"Oh _come on!_ You're acting like I'm asking you to fly overseas with me to hunt down freaking count Dracula or something. My folks place is just a couple of hours drive past the bridge crossing into Cornwall. We can make it there by tomorrow morning."

Dean didn't even bother with words, just stubbornly kept shaking his head 'no'.

"Look, if I'm going to pull this off I need to be on my home turf alright? I've been running for a very long time. Baiting, drawing them out and then running again just get a fix on how this guy works. It's taken a lot longer than I ever would have expected. I'm tired, I'm hurt and let's face it: I'm not anywhere near the top of my game right now. If I was I would never have bothered asking for help. I wouldn't have needed it. I need help. I need Winchesters. I also need familiar ground." She needed to keep a promise.

But Dean wouldn't have it. He was giving her 'I won't back down' on this. That's okay… she still had a few buttons to push.

"We could do it at Bobby's… or maybe Caleb's old place. It's been empty since…well anyway, it's as good a place as any."

"And since when does Dean Winchester care about risky anyway? Didn't you go up against a Wendigo with nothing but a flare gun? Not to mention facing off with a Reaper… Bloody Mary… a woman in white… If I didn't know any better I'd say you were getting soft in your old age."

"You did not just call me soft! Let me tell you the day I get soft is the day you start acting like a _girl _Caitlin. Oh. Wait. I forgot. You've done that already, haven't you?"

"Shut up Dean." There was a steel edge to her voice. He knew better. Was lucky she was even warning him off rather than just lashing out.

"No. You know, for days now we've been chasing after you just because you asked us for help." Well, at least at first. "During that time I've been kneed in the nuts, driven to jealousy and punched in the face. I've found you passed out on the side of the road. Watched you turn into the chic from the exorcist and nearly die. You've stolen my car, my wallet and my phone… threatened and insulted me at every chance you got…oh! And let's not forget the Steroid Cowboy from the bar and the Angry Wrestler Wannabe from the hotel room. Hey, those guys were lots of fun weren't they?"

Deep breath before going on… or rather going off on her again.

"_Now_, after all that… and then some. And don't you dare try to pretend you don't know what I'm talking about Cal. You know exactly what I mean by 'and then some'"

He glared at her when she just looked angrily away. Didn't even have the decency to blush.

"After _all of that_ now you're asking me to let you drive us clear across the Canadian border to your parent's place… just so you can be on familiar ground when you face off with this guy?"

Put that way, it didn't sound so great. Thing is… they didn't know all there was to know about her reasons for wanting to go back now. Her promise. She be damned if she told him _now _though. He'd probably just toss it back in her face… besides she didn't have time to argue with him. She'd wasted enough already. Screw the button pushing. Either he was in or she was through.

"You stubborn, selfish…self-centered…pig-headed excuse for a… Did you even bother to spare a second in that little hissy fit of yours to consider the fact that I've been living this hell for _months_ now?" Ever since she'd found out the truth about her mother… the whole truth. Ever since her father had died.

"Not to mention the incredible leap of faith it took for me to ask you two for help? I've been working alone for years now…and before that the only person I trusted enough to do this stuff with was my father. When I finally found you guys I had an idea of what to expect. I've heard the stories. Damn it Dean, I had to protect myself from _you_ as much as from Earl. Maybe more." Oh, she had his attention there. Unfortunately they were both far too wound up and angry to really hear what the other was saying.

"Protection? I don't think you ever really got this… but we're the _good guys_. Isn't that why you tracked us down in the first place? Why you wanted our help?" No. She'd wanted their help because next to her Dad they were the best there was out there… and her Dad was gone now so she couldn't ask him anymore. Dean had pushed the wrong button without even knowing it.

"You don't want to help? Fine!" Her voice was low and she was deadly calm. "I'll go pick up my car and take care of this myself." Or die trying, but that little bit went unsaid. "Who needs you anyway?" Her walls were back up again. Great big brick ones firmly mortared into place. She didn't need this garbage. Asking for help had been a mistake.

The receiver was in her hand. She was dialing the local cab company, asking them to send a car over to take her back to the hotel where she'd left her wheels. Then her bags were slung over her shoulders again and she was turning around to face him one last time before passing through the door.

"It was nice meeting you Sam." She smiled at the younger man. "It's been a slice." Then she turned to face his older brother. The daggers she was shooting from those pretty blue eyes did nothing to hide the sadness that lay behind them. "Don't follow me Winchester." It was an order. She didn't want to see him again. Ever.

Her back was to them now. The door closing carefully behind her. There was the sound of a car pulling up in front of the room and the solid thunk of a door closing. Dean was at the window watching the cab drive away.

"What the hell just happened?" Sure they'd argued before… but not like _this_.

"I don't know Dean… but I think it might have something to do with her folks. Why else would she be so hell bent on heading up there?"

Damn. He knew it. Knew there was something she hadn't told them. You'd think she would have learned the first time around… now look where it was getting her: back in the line of fire… alone. _DAMN!_

Scooping up the papers on the table he tossed them into the nearest one of their bags. He never had been very good at taking orders… he'd be damned if he'd take hers. She was coming clean and she was doing it today. Then he was going to make it damned clear that she was _not_ going to walk out on him again.


	15. Chapter 15

_**Chapter 16**_

"I don't know about this Dean. She _told_ you not to follow her."

"Since when do women ever say what they really mean anyway?"

Dean tossed Sam the keys over the hood of the car and smirked at the skeptical look he was met with.

"That right there Dean is exactly what she meant by 'pig headed'."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever professor. Just take her to Bobby's. We'll meet you there."

"What if she changes her mind and leaves you here?" Was that a touch of worry in his little brother's voice? How sweet.

"Well then I hotwire a car, give you a call and meet you halfway." What? It's not like he hadn't done it before.

"Go on, before she gets here. If she sees my baby driving out of here she might just turn the cabbie around."

"Fine, but for the record: you're crazy man. Crazy."

Yeah, he was crazy all right and Cal was the one making him that way.

What was this? A 2005? Practically brand spanking new compared to the Metallicar. Pft. The damn thing had no character. You needed a _classic_ to have a car with character. It's the type of thing that could only come with age. And red? Please. Talk about a typical girl car.

He didn't know how long he was going to have to wait. Last time Cal had taken off on him she'd sent them on twelve hours worth of wild goose chasing. Maybe he could check out this little car of hers while he waited… Hadn't she said something about hidden compartments for her toys? A little treasure hunting would help pass the time…

So with the skill born from years of practice Dean Winchester effortlessly broke into Caitlin O'Sulivan's Mustang.

The tan leather interior was nice…though he, personally, would have gone black with it. Sitting in the driver's seat made him feel like he was in the cockpit of a plane. Not exactly a plus when you're deathly afraid of flying. So far he wasn't impressed.

Then he got a look at the sound system. That little car had the works man, the works. Top of the line CD player, tape deck and am/fm tuner. She had a police scanner and a CB radio hooked up to it too, and it all fit conveniently into her dash. Where the hell did she manage to get her hands on enough cash for all this?

Well, _now _he was curious. What would the sound quality be in something like this? So on a hunch he reached down under the drivers seat and pulled out Cal's spare set of keys. "Oh _Cal_, I'm disappointed. That was just too predictable." Then with a smile that can only be accomplished by a true troublemaker he put the key in the ignition and started her up.

He should have checked that the radio was off before starting up the car. He should have… but he didn't. Some loud, angry chick started screaming her lyrics at him in stereo from every inch of the car.

"Ahhh! What the hell _is_ this crap? Jesus! She's not even _here_ and she's freaking torturing me!" Frantically he played with knobs and buttons trying to shut the woman up. Nothing was working…and then the song changed...to something he recognized all too well. "We're not gonna take it… No, we ain't gonna take it…We're not gonna take it _anymore…" _ It was a remake and he balked at it at first… but then it started to grow on him. Still… there had to be _something_ to listen to other than this in the damn car.

"Well the keys were pretty obvious… maybe the tapes will be too. Alright woman… let's see what you have stashed under your passenger seat."

Sure enough there was a little black canvass bag that made the distinct clicking sound of plastic hitting plastic as he pulled it out. Inside there was a jumbled mess of cassettes and CD's of all kinds. The first one he pulled out belonged to the tape that was currently in the deck.

"Huh, _Bif Naked_? What the hell kind of a name is that? Right. Um, no _thank you_." Next? A mix tape… interesting… looked like Cal's handwriting too… hey, hadn't she said she wasn't into the 'whole eighties thing'? But she had a tape deck… in a brand new car… and a mix tape with the likes of Bad Company, REO Speedwagon and Van Halen on it? She even had an AC/DC cd kicking around for crying out loud. Heh heh. Looked like he had a closet case fan on his hands here.

A little more patience helped him find the volume button… and then the eject button. He hit the latter with a sigh of relief and popped in Cal's mix tape. First song… Born to be Wild… "Ha ha! Now _that's _what I'm talking about. _Right there_." And like a true natures child… we were born, born to be wild…

He just sat back and enjoyed. A little more of this and he might actually be able to burn that 'Naked' chic out of memory. One okay remake does not an artist make. Oh God, he was starting to sound like her… no good would come of this.

The song changed again and suddenly AC/DC was coming at him singing 'You shook me all night long" Well, that had wasted about twenty minutes… he had decent tunes and was actually sitting in the car…There was still no sign of her so, what now?

He looked around a little restlessly… God he was getting bored fast… Um, didn't she say something about hiding places where she kept her 'toys'. Off hand he didn't see anything that qualified… still, she'd said that they were hidden for easy border crossings into Canada, so they wouldn't be obvious would they?

How many of them were there? Could he find them all? Finding the answers for himself sounded like a worthy challenge… and a _perfect _way to spend his time waiting… So Dean started snooping. Under the seats… around the dashboard…maybe in the upholstery on the doors? Aha! Found one in the cushion of the passenger seat and he was hooked. This new game he'd created was _fun_.

So _much _fun in fact that he never even noticed Cal walk up to the car half an hour later. He was leaning over the island between the two front seats, persqueeter up in the air, rummaging around the floorboards in the back seat…Not that she didn't enjoy the view… mmm, who wouldn't enjoy a good ogle of Dean Winchesters…derriere? But what the hell was he doing in her car?

Dean for his part was completely oblivious. Where the front seat had been perfectly neat and organized the back seat was littered with…well anything Cal had decided to throw over the seat. She stood there and watched him shuffle around her things, making a little sound here and there whenever he found something that he found interesting. Then, all of a sudden he let out a loud whoop.

"AHA! I knew it! I _knew _it! Damn it Cal I _knew_ you owned one of these! Figures you'd hide it in your car of all places!" She didn't even need to see it to know what it was. Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest and her face was a bright angry red when he pulled himself out of the back seat with a proud look of triumph and a lacy pink bra hanging off his finger.

"Dean, what in the _hell _are you doing?"

_That_ is when he finally noticed her, in all her fuming, stark raving mad glory. Quickly tossing his newly found prize back over the seat (maybe she hadn't noticed) he gave her a cheeky grin and answered her the first thing that came to mind. "Waiting for you." Would the innocent look work? Worth a try…

Not a chance.

"Really? Hm, looks to me like you were turning my car upside down. Searching it for what exactly?...Right! My bra. That about sound right to you?" Her hands had shifted to her hips… Crap this wasn't good. Last time she'd looked at him like that he'd become the proud owner of a black eye.

"I, um, got a little bored… so I thought I'd see if I could find those hiding places you were telling us about." What was it that they said about wild animals? No sudden movements… and to not be afraid because they can smell your fear…

"What are you even doing here? I distinctly remember telling you not to follow me!"

"Oh right, and let you just run off after a bunch of vampires and get yourself killed?"

"I have been hunting alone for years now… longer than you have I'll bet. I am perfectly able to take care of myself!"

"And the last couple of days were…?"

"_Your fault_!"

"What?!? _My_ fault? Last I checked _you_ were the one who got _yourself_ hurt and let _your _damned pride get in the way of telling someone so _you_ could get patched up!"

"Well I wouldn't have _had _to hide it if you weren't such a macho _jerk_!"

"Yeah, 'cause all macho jerks always throw themselves in front of angry spirits to help out pretty girls who are about to get cut to pieces right?"

"No, just the insensitive, good looking, bad-ass, womanizing, playboy ones apparently and therein lies the goddamned protection problem!"

Dean wasn't in the car anymore, he was in her face. They were toe to toe and practically nose to nose.

"I am sick and tired of this crap Cal!"

"Yeah, well you're not the only one."

"Shut up and listen to me damn it! I'm sick of you insulting me and beating the crap out of me! I'm sick of finding you helpless, bleeding and passing out all over the place! I'm sick of you ripping my heart clear out of my chest… kissing me so that I can't think… or breathe… and then tossing it right back at me as you walk out the freaking door!"

He stopped cold eyes locked on hers. Wait. He didn't just… did he? Had he said that _out loud_? He hadn't even realized… not until the words had come out of his mouth. But they rang true. As much as she annoyed the hell out of him… he didn't want to see her go…Trust the woman to walk him right smack into a chic flic moment without him even realizing it.

"Dean…" Great big clear blue eyes… "Did you…" soft full lips…"actually mean…" he loved the way she chewed on her bottom lip when she was nervous. The hell with it.

"Damn right I did."

Great. Trust the man to say exactly what she needed to hear and turn her into a great big puddle of mush. How the hell was mush supposed to hold up her walls of defense? It just didn't. In fact it made her do stupid stuff like leaning in towards him and closing the little distance there was between them.

"I ought to deck you again for the bra Winchester."

That wide eyed innocent look was back turning hazel eyes soft and green.

"Just shut up and kiss me." It wasn't an order. He was asking. Dean was a lot of things alright, but he would never try to take what she wasn't willing to give. That alone had been enough… from the very start.

She answered him alright, in fact she couldn't _not_ kiss him.

Wonderful Caitlin, just freaking wonderful… and how the hell are you supposed to walk away from him now? It scared her to finally realize that she didn't _want_ to anymore. Scared her more than anything ever had before.

This man…this man was no 'one night stand'. Not to her.

When he finally pulled away it was just enough to get a good look at her prettily flushed face.

"Alright. Now that we've got that worked out…we've got to hit the road. I'm driving."

"Trying to take charge already? Am I going to have to set you straight again?"

She was teasing him. He didn't hate it. That little smile of hers did good things to his insides.

Wait a second, come on Winchester. Keep your head in the game… focus.

"We're meeting Sam at Bobby's place. You don't know how to get there… _and_ you owe me a big one for taking off with my car and taking it for a joy ride the other day."

She arched a brow at him. "You can tell me how to get there. No way I'm riding shotgun in my own car."

She never saw it coming… he hit her with it full on.

"Well either I drive or we stay right here. Either way I don't want you driving while you're filling me in on whatever it is that you're not telling me about this whole Canada thing." Crap. Well, there was no turning back now.

"Fine. You get the first hundred miles or until I'm done talking. Whichever comes first and no further."

"I knew you'd see it my way."

"Shut up"

"Get in"

Then he smiled at her like she was the only woman in the world and everything was suddenly _very_ okay.

"Alright sweetheart, let's pick us up a stalker vampire. Shall we?"


	16. Chapter 16

_**Chapter 17**_

A couple of take-out coffees and a nice leisurely drive by the bar to get the attention they were looking for and Cal and Dean were back on the road. Didn't feel quite the same without Sammy along for the ride… but the time alone with Cal made up for it.

"So… what is it exactly that you haven't told us yet? Why Canada of all places?" He was careful not to make a big deal out of it. Eyes forward and never wavering from the road. She had hoped that he might forget. Ha. Right. Dean wasn't the type to just 'forget'. Oh well… time to come clean.

"Well, after that first run in with Earl… I called my Dad for help." Had it only been months ago? It felt like a lifetime. "He was going to help me… We laid low for a few weeks. I was a little shaken up, and Dad wanted to throw them off the scent to buy us some time." She could still smell the musty motel room when she thought about it. A few weeks hadn't been nearly enough.

"We, um, both got pretty restless. There only so much you can do from the comfort of a motel room…only so many pay-per-view movies you can order before you start to go a little insane. So when Dad heard me invite the pizza guy in to share his delivery with us he just laughed and suggested that we go out for a couple of beers instead." It had started out a way to beat the cabin fever and had become one of the darkest nights of her life.

"The bar was about ten minutes walk from the motel. We hadn't bothered with either of the cars…didn't see the point since it was so close. Besides, we were going out to take the edge off so neither of us were going to be sober enough to drive by the end of the night." They'd had so much fun. There had been no hustling, no picking up, none of the usual games she played to keep her mind off how serious and dangerous had become. It had just been beers, darts, pool and each other.

Then there had been the long walk back…at three a.m. after they'd closed out the bar. It was a beautiful night. Clear skies, moonlight, quiet streets. That was when her father had finally told her the truth about her mother's death… or at least, the parts that he'd left out until then. It just seemed right that way. As if she'd been meant to find out that way.

She must have been followed from the get-go. From the time she left Earl pinned to her motel room wall. There was just no other way they could have found her. They had been watching all along, waiting for Cal and her father to let their guards down. It didn't matter how or why anymore… because nothing would ever change the fact that they were ambushed as they walked through the motel room door. Her father… she didn't even have the time to blink and he was gone.

Everything after that was a big blur that ended suddenly in her car speeding down the highway with her fathers dead body on the passenger seat beside her.

She buried him next to her mother on the family homestead and vowed that she would end it.

That's when she put her plan together. Her parents, the only family she had ever had were gone. She was completely alone for the first time in her life. It was all because of _him_ and she was mad as hell about it.

Then it began. Months of baiting, luring out into the open then running away. Gauging reactions and reaction times… learning everything she could about them as she plotted the best way to finish Earl off for good.

It wasn't until she slipped up that she thought of backup. It only happened once…once was all it took. Then there was only one name that came to mind: the man that had saved her fathers life years earlier. The best there was: John Winchester. She'd expected to get the answering machine… but not the message to contact his son instead. Dean. Still, when you needed help like she did you can't afford to be picky.

Cal did her homework… called in favors and IOU's to get information on both the brothers. It took the better part of six frantic weeks to track the brothers down… the rest… well Dean knew the rest. Now, there they were.

"So now you want to go back home and finish this where your father is buried so that in some small way he'll get to play a part in this?" Okay, he could understand that… but she was still holding something back. That's not it though is it? This thing your Dad told you about how your Mom died…it ties in to all this doesn't it?"

Was the guy psychic or something? Wasn't Sam supposed to be the one with the freaky mind powers?

"Yeah, it does." Didn't mean she wanted to share it though.

"Well?" Didn't mean he was going to let it go either.

"One night when I was six… Dad was working late… Mom was attacked in our house and killed… by vampires… by Earl and his group." So it had now come full circle.

She'd been lucky to make it out alive. Her mom had heard them breaking into the house and hid Cal in a closet under a pile of blankets. It was thanks to her mother she'd survived.

"That's why Dad started hunting in the first place. I never knew it, but my whole life he'd been looking for this thing. Figures doesn't it? That I'd run into it at a bar, pick it up, beat it up and piss it off."

"That's my girl!"

"Oh shut up."

It had worked. He'd managed to lighten the moment.

"So you want to go back home and finish this where it all started…"

"Pretty much. Complete the circle… wouldn't feel right if I didn't."

Okay then, apparently Canada it was going to be.

"Alright, so where exactly are you planning to take us? My geography is a little rusty."

"Canada… and don't try to distract me. Your hundred miles or less are up."

But… he was really _enjoying _driving the Mustang.

"Ah! Not so fast. Driver makes the rules…and you're not done yet. You've got a plan to fill me in on."

"First off… my car my rules… this is not the Metallicar which means you are not the one making the rules…" not that she would follow them anyway, but that was beside the point. "…and I believe the deal I agreed to involved filling you in on what I left out…"

"Yes, and you've left out the finer points of your brilliant plan… like all of it." So he was stalling. Who could blame him? Chances of him driving again any time soon were slim to none… he was going to make this particular ride last.

"I've told you the plan already. We lure Earl up to Canada leveling the numbers on the playing field and we kill the bastard on my home turf. Neat and tidy and voila, fait accompli. We can all go on with our normal, everyday lives." Okay, so hunters don't get normal… technicalities.

"That my dear is the _rough draft_ of a plan. How exactly are you going to kill Earl? What are Sam and I going to do to help? And most importantly what are you going to do if this so-called plan backfires?"

"God, you're starting to sound like Sam."

He just shrugged. "Sam keeps me alive. I do the same for him… and you."

"Alright. I'm going to kill Earl with my crossbow and Dad's machete. Seems fitting that way. You and Sam are running interference. Earl _will_ bring friends and we _will_ be ready for them. Oh, and my plan won't backfire. I'm just that good."

"Well aren't _we_ cocky now that the Winchesters are along for the ride?" It was a baited comment accompanied by a raised brow.

"Winchester, pull over and give me back my car!" And that was a very attractive shade of pink creeping up from her neckline as she got upset.

"And if I refuse?" He just couldn't help egging her on.

"I swear to God I will drive sitting in your freaking lap if I have to."

Now _that _was the most interesting suggestion he'd heard in a very long time. It certainly had managed to get his attention…

"Really? In my…? Can't say I've ever tried…" He grinned at her and patted his thigh. "Come on then O'Sulivan. Let's give it a try."


	17. Chapter 17

Same old disclaimer: the CW and Kripke have total ownership of the boys, the car and the show... we're just taking them for a little joyride ;)

Thank you so much to everyone who had reviewed so far. I'm so glad you're enjoying this as much as I am! Please keep reviewing... and most importantly enjoy the read!

Gen

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_**Chapter 18**_

Windows open wide, wind whipping through her hair, handsome man at her side and a coffee in hand… nothing but open road before them and good messy fight at the end when they got there. It didn't get much better than this. Cal was definitely in her happy place.

And Dean… well, Dean was still grinning like a fool…all because of one little kiss…Okay, so maybe it hadn't been little. Maybe it turned out to be long and distractingly passionate… but that was all _his _fault, wasn't it? How on earth was she supposed to know that instead of dropping the keys into her outstretched hand he would wrap his big warm one around it and pull her to him… Dude was _totally_ unpredictable…

Okay, okay. So she'd seen it coming and played into it. He was Dean freaking Winchester for crying out loud…what red-blooded female could resist that? Hey, she'd _tried_ hadn't she? In fact, even now, as she maneuvered her sleek little car over the winding back roads that led to Bobby's place she was fantasizing about pulling it over and having her way with him… He didn't look like he would mind it at all either.

Still, they had vampires following them and a job to do. When it came to the job…especially this particular one, Cal was nothing but professional. So she kept the car on the road and her hands on the wheel trying hard to concentrate on where they were going. Not an easy task with him sitting over there with eyes for nothing but here and the kind of smug look only _he _could pull off. Still… somehow she managed it.

Bobby's place was literally a dump. It was the kind of place where old vehicles no longer considered useful went to die out, rusting to dust in the yard. There were cars, trucks, motorcycles, minivans… heck there was even some outdated farm equipment lying around. Bobby would take the old, rejected things in and work on them between hunts until they were like new and then sell them off. It was a respectable way to supplement the credit card fraud that kept most hunters afloat.

It was no surprise to Cal. A hunter's lifestyle was shady by nature. Not exactly conducive to maintaining little houses with whitewashed shutters and picket fences. Hunters weren't likely to have the average two and a half kids, the cat and the dog either. Most came from broken families. Broken and battered by the pain and loss that were a part of coming face to face with the supernatural… evil. Curious ones with newly-opened eyes and minds…people who have seen things that cannot be ignored and start digging into the legends and folklore to find answers. It doesn't take much digging to unearth a hunter. What it takes is belief in the unbelievable.

A very few, like Cal, came from families who spent generations hunting the evil side of the supernatural. In the case of the O'Sulivan line had been passed down from father to son five times before it came to her father. Then Jacob O'Sulivan had met Cal's mother and fell in love. The man didn't even blink. Just gave up the life entirely and everything that came with it, married the girl and settled down to live a normal, happy life… well, ten years of it anyway. Then the vampires had killed her mother and everything changed. Jacob didn't have a son to pass it on to. He had Caitlin… and he taught her everything she needed to know to stay alive, and then some.

The Winchester boys were going to be awfully surprised when they finally set eyes on her parents homestead. Between her inheritance, the pool hall and card hustling and the occasional bartending gig she took on for fun Cal had no problems keeping the old farmhouse in more than respectable shape. Heh, heh… she was looking forward to seeing the shocked look… I mean she wasn't exactly the average home-grown Canadian farm girl now was she? A girl had to make a living right? Can't hustle pool in overalls and pigtails. Well, okay, you could… but not with any amount of self-respect. At least not in her opinion.

She knew she _had _to go home, but that didn't necessarily mean she wanted to. Memories, old and new, were still painfully fresh. To face going home… well it was one of the hardest things she'd ever had to do. They were _both _gone now… she still couldn't really believe it yet.

So for now she concentrated on helping Sam and Dean load up her car. They wouldn't need to bring much… but the few things they did need were essential. "Machetes boys. You will need machetes. The most effective way to kill these suckers off is to give them a real close shave. Anything else you want to bring is nothing but accessorizing." Dean was busy checking the sights on one of the handguns they generally filled with rock salt for spirits. "Oh, I think I can thing of a few interesting ways to slow them down make the job a little easier."

Cal couldn't help the chuckle as she knelt in on the drivers seat of the Mustang. Pulling the headrest off revealed that the inside of the seat was hollow and divided into four compartments, two of which were already full with her own tools. Good thing she'd been traveling light. "I'll bet you can tough guy. Let's just remember who the expert is on this one eh? Before you go pulling any stupid stunts, ask me if they'll work." Sam smiled knowingly as he handed her a couple of very large, nasty looking machetes and watched her hide them next to her own in the seat.

"Hey, listen sweetheart, I don't think I have to remind you that we do this kind of thing for a living too." He'd surprised her by leaning in the open passenger side window, and smiled when he realized he'd finally managed to catch her off guard. Damn, she hated it when that happened. "Yeah, please don't… or I might have to remind you how many times you almost got yourself killed doing it." There were all kinds of wild stories about those two getting themselves into trouble, putting their lives on the line, and having to MacGuyver their way out of it. This ought to be fairly cut and dry, so to speak. Simple and easy. She just hoped it would turn out that way.

Leaning over she pulled open the square chunk of removable cushioning in the passenger side seat and unlocked the box that was hidden beneath it. "The ammo's going in the trunk, but I'll take the other stuff here." Dean was shaking his head as he watched her carefully placing the guns in the box.

"Only you would take the time to organize your arsenal by size."

"Hey, there is nothing wrong with being organized."

Her voice was now coming from the backseat as she leaned over the middle island and tossed all the crap that was back there into a bag that had appeared in her hands out of nowhere.

"Ha, right. _I'm_ organized…_you?_ Well, I guess you forgot that I've seen your backseat."

Right, and he was getting a _great_ view of it right that very second.

"I wouldn't go there if I were you, unless you want to be spending a whole lot more time back there all by your lonesome."

"Or… we could let Sammy drive and sit back there together…?" What? He had to try.

"Dean!" And that would be a _no_"

Thank God Sammy was over by the Impala because otherwise she might just have had to kill Dean. As it was the guy got lucky because he was able to sneak in the best kind of kiss when she sat back up. That was twice now he'd managed to surprise her and she couldn't even hit him for it anymore… because if she did he might stop doing it. Dude was a quick one alright. She would have to do something about that.

All in all it took close to an hour to stash everything safely away and out of sight. When she caught them debating whether or not they should bring along the shovels she drew the line. "Hey, guys. Listen… I think you've packed enough. I mean, you're acting as if I don't have more of this stuff back home. Dad was a hunter remember? That's part of the reason we're going back there. All his, um, 'tools' are up there."

"Yeah, but who's to say we won't run into anything else on our way up there, or coming back? It's called being prepared." Dean was a pain in the behind when he was being difficult.

"No Dean, it's called being _anal_. Speaking of which: you two have exactly ten minutes to haul your bags and your behinds into my car or I leave without you… again."

Bobby, who had been watching the goings-on from a very comfortable chair on his front porch, started laughing. "That's right girl. You give him what for!" He called out to her encouragingly. She waved back at him smiling brightly before sashaying her way back to the Mustang.

"Dude! Don't encourage her. You have _no idea_ what she's capable of…" But Dean's words were lost as the older man laughed harder. "I never thought I'd see the day… Dean Winchester bullied by a girl…" Oh, it was just too much. She would pat for this.

Sure enough though, ten minutes later Dean's baby was locked up tight and lovingly tucked in with a protective tarp and everyone was in the car, ready to head out. Bobby was waving from the same spot with a wide grin that spread across his craggy features and Dean's keys jingling merrily in his coat pocket. He may not have known Cal personally, but the Winchesters weren't the only ones whose stories preceded them. If any of what he'd heard over the years was true... well those boys were going to have one hell of an interesting time.

It would be a quiet ride up to the border. Whereas Cal hadn't much choice but to sleep off her injury over the last few days, Sam and Dean had unfortunately not slept much at all. Of course, that had been mostly because of her own foolish actions… Oh well, wasn't exactly something she could change _now, _was it?

Her choice of music had been frowned on… and protested loudly by both brothers. I mean, Sarah McLaughlin? _Come on! _But Cal held firm. It was her car, and she was driving so the tunes were her pick. They were Dean's own rules and she was as stubborn as they get. "Hey, you better watch yourselves or Britney might make another appearance, and this time she'll stick around awhile." Well _that _shut them up.

It's not that she wanted to listen to that particular music… it was generally the type of thing she played when she was alone. Girl music. The boys needed to get some rest and it was the most relaxing stuff she had on hand. If they would just stop complaining she could have them out cold in minutes. Dean was pale and cranky and poor Sam had circles around his eyes so dark he could have passed himself off as a raccoon. _He'd _be the easy one. Soft brown eyes were already starting to drift shut on their own. Dean on the other hand… there was nothing easy about the man.

"Aw, come on Cal. Haven't you tortured me enough already? As if the physical abuse wasn't enough, now you're upping the stakes to psychological warfare?" Yeah, cranky wasn't the word for Dean Winchester at the moment. Nope, more like downright miserable.

"Hey, _I've _been listening to _your _Metallica garbage for _days_ now. A couple of hours of good clean Canadian music won't kill you. Who knows, you might even start to like it…" Who was the hellion trying to kid? She had mischief written all over her… this was _payback _was what it was. Canadian music, pfa! More like chick flic tunes. Man, this stuff was so lame that Sammy was already passed out cold in the backseat because of it.

"Yeah, well there's a huge difference between Metallica and this crap. At least _I _was making you listen to _good _music. There's just no excuse for this stuff." Cal glanced over to the back seat to make sure Sam really was sleeping, letting Dean rant on for another couple of miles. She _knew _what she had to do to quiet the guy down… it just wouldn't work if Sam saw it and said something about it. The moment the reassuring sound of his soft snore filled the car Cal pulled over to the side of the road.

"Oh, _wonderful! _What now? You gonna kick me out of the car for having an opinion?" Christ! If the man didn't shut up soon she'd kill him with her bare hands, and gladly.

"Dean, would you just shut your trap for a frigging second?" Hm, okay. She had his attention… now what?

"In case you hadn't noticed…and I don't see how you couldn't… both you and Sam have pushed yourselves way beyond the point of exhaustion." And _that _got her a big fat glare. "Yeah, and whose fault would _that _be I wonder?"

"Well, didjya think that maybe there was a _motive _behind the choice of tunes?" She was starting to lose patience…

"Yeah, torture… or payback. I haven't figured out which one yet."

Unbelievable! You _try _to do something nice… to help a guy out… and what do you get for it? _This_.

The way Cal was looking at it there were currently two options available: She could let the guy rant himself out (which from the sounds of things would take a good long while) _or _she could shut him up and maybe just maybe improve the guys mood a little in the process. Hm, tough choice. Listen to the guy complain himself to death… or the chance at a little peace and quiet… and probably a smile too… Yeah, it was no contest. Plan 'B' it was.

So she undid her seatbelt, leaned over and took him completely by surprise with a hot openmouthed kiss that left him feeling as if someone had just set him on fire. Oh, Dean stopped complaining alright. The guy wasn't capable of speech anymore. All he could do was surrender to it, hands framing her face and combing through her hair. Too busy just plain feeling the choice of music suddenly didn't seem to matter so much anymore.

When finally she pulled away they were both grinning like a couple of idiots. "So, uh, what was _that _for? "To shut you up and put a smile on your face." She looked over at him and her cheshire cat grin brightened still more. "Looks like it worked too."

"Hey, Cal? If that's what complaining gets me then maybe I should…"

"Don't even _think _it Winchester. Just lie back and try to get some sleep. Otherwise you might just stuff that big ass foot of yours in your mouth again and I wouldn't want to resort to knocking it back out for you."

She was joking of course. He knew it, and he could have called her on it. But she was right… Dean was completely worn out. So instead of pumping out the usual smartass wisecrack there was a little shifting around, a bit of moaning and groaning as he tried to get comfortable and then finally just the sound of the radio which could just barely be heard over the purr of the engine.

They looked so damned _innocent_ while they slept. So unfair. No one would ever guess what they were _really _like.

Okay. Coffee. She'd definitely need a coffee if she was going to drive for any amount of time listening to this stuff. So, pulling off the shoulder again she went in search of caffeine… and headed somewhere she hadn't been in a very long while: Home.

She didn't know how long it had been since they'd pulled out of Bobby's drive. Hours certainly, but how many was anyone's guess. One thing she was positive of: there wasn't enough coffee in the world to keep her awake through Sarah McLaughlin. So when finally she couldn't keep her eyes open anymore she reached over and switched off the tape for the radio instead.

_I tear my heart open_

_And I sell myself short_

_My weakness is _

_That I care too much_

_My scars remind me _

_That the past is real_

_I tear my heart open _

_Just to feel_

The song set the tone for her current frame of mind.

Dean Winchester was out cold. How the man had managed to completely sprawl himself out across the passenger seat next to her she had no idea. Didn't really need to know either…she was just happy that he had.

That was how Cal liked Dean best…_en repos_… when he was like that she could take her time and look her fill as leisurely as she wanted to and he'd never be the wiser. It sure wasn't hard to see why women swooned over him so easily. Why he was showing more than just a passing interest in _her_ of all people she just couldn't figure out.

Well, all in all she could have done worse _Far _worse. In fact she had, a very long time ago. The angsty song that was playing on the radio was fitting to her mood. Oh she had scars all right, a whole tangled mess of 'em. They were twisted, dark and went down so deep that they made an impact on every waking moment of her life. They were the main reason she'd worked alone until now.

She could get used to tagging along with the Winchesters… much more easily than she was comfortable admitting to. It was nice to have backup for one… and a couple of strong capable shoulders to lean on. Someone to slow you down when you were headed for self-destruction. That last one used to be something her Dad used to do. Now that he was gone… well, that was a thought she would rather not finish just yet. Not if it made her eyes well up like that. Cal just didn't do crying… at least not if she could help it.

Of course, with every upside to a situation there was a down as well. For Cal in this case it was that she was beginning to actually _feel_ again. For Sam as a sister might a brother… I mean, let's face it: between the two of them they'd managed to torture poor Dean in ways that until now had been considered impossible. Heh heh. Just the thought of Britney Spears now brought a smile to brighten her face. Cal would never have thought it possible until now.

As for Dean… well he was something else entirely. There were serious, twisted and complicated emotions involved there that came from her own previous horrible experiences. There were also surprisingly soft, comfortable ones that made her feel warm and bright as if she were glowing from the inside out. They all contrasted each other so completely that it scared the living hell out of her. Feeling was dangerous.

Feeling brought people close to her.

Two things generally happened to people unfortunate enough to get close to Cal. They either hurt her or they died. It was just easier to choose the solitude of being on her own. Hunting things and helping people, chasing after the things that went bump in the night. It helped to put the loss in perspective and it protected her from losing still more.

She knew the option was there to stay on once Earl was dead and the job was over. Dean had made it perfectly clear that he had no intention of watching her walk away from him again. It was tempting… so incredibly tempting to stay…to take what was being offered…to relax into some form of normalcy other than her own for a change…

Cal had a big decision to make. If being on the road with Sam and Dean had taught her anything so far it was that decisions had to be made quickly or else they had a bad habit of being made for you.

One last lingering glance toward the man who was smiling to himself in dreams and she stepped a little harder on the accelerator. Her heart sped up and skipped a beat or two. Jesus Cal, you sure know how to pick 'em. You may very well end up being the reason behind the demise of the Winchester boys. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?


	18. Chapter 18

_**Chapter 19**_

Only the barest hint of hazel could be seen from between eyelids that until just moments before, had been closed peacefully in sleep. Something had changed… and Dean wasn't sure he liked it… what was it…? Right. The _music_.

What the hell _was_ this stuff? 'I tear my heart open… I sell myself short…'? Damn Cal. Since when are you so morbidly emotional? There was nothing wrong with the song… except maybe the lyrics. 'My scars remind me… that the past is real…I tear myself open… just to feel…' Man, he'd take that Bif Naked chic over this any day. At least she'd been singing about kicking ass. This was just so incredibly dark, and negative.

And Cal… she was sadly humming along to it. If he didn't know any better he'd say she was on the verge of tears. Well that couldn't be right. His Cal didn't do tears. She preferred to pick fights…with men three times her size… and turn them into hamburger. All right, time for Dean to officially wake up. She probably wouldn't talk to him about it… but maybe he could cheer her up… or distract her or something.

So he let out a big yawn and made a big show of stretching out and opening his eyes. Hm, how far to the nearest cup of caffeine he wondered? Well, only one way to find out for sure.

"Hey, She-Ra… any chance we can scare up some coffee before we hit the border?"

Okay, probably not a great choice trying to rile her up when she was sad like that… and before coffee... but Dean wasn't exactly well known for making great choices when it came to women, was he?

"Well, considering we crossed the border about half an hour ago…no, not really." He could still hear sadness in her voice but her smile told him she was okay. Was there anything his girl couldn't handle? He doubted it…well, except maybe changing her own band-aids.

Hey, wait, they _what_? "You're kidding right? Didn't we need to be awake for that… you know, to flash our fake ID's and stuff?"

Aha. The giggle was back. "Nope. I had them on me. They just compared your pictures with your faces and asked me the usual stuff. You know: Why were we in the States? How long were we there? Did we buy anything that needs to be declared? Where are we headed home to?"

All very good questions… he wouldn't mind knowing the answers to them himself. "To which you answered…?"

"Well, mr. Border Patrol Man sir," she fluttered her eyelids flirtatiously "we were visiting our friend Bobby for a couple of weeks. He's like family, don't you know? And no, sir, we didn't buy anything but groceries while we were there… oh, we're not going far… just passed Winchester Springs in North Dundas." She gave him a sweet smile then stuck her tongue out at him playfully.

"Is there _anything_ you can't flirt your way through?"

"Nope." Well, at least she was honest, right? Maybe he ought to change the subject. He didn't like that mildly jealous feeling that had suddenly reared its ugly little head.

"Okay. I'm not even going to pretend to know where North Dundas is… and Winchester Springs? You're kidding right?"

She just laughed. Well that had been easier than he'd expected it to be.

"So… about that coffee?" Well what? She'd covered everything else.

"There's a Tim Horton's about fifteen minutes from here. After that it's a straight twenty minute drive home."

Half an hour or so and they'd be there. Dean wasn't awake enough yet to want to ask what a 'Tim Horton's' was. As long as they had coffee it was all good. For now he'd settle for popping in a fresh tape… preferably something better than the chic music she'd been playing so far…and watching the scenery roll by.

Sam was already awake. He'd been listening to Cal humming for a good half hour already. It had been so peaceful that he didn't want to alter the moment.

From the look of things it was early morning… the clock on her dash said 7:20am. Was that local time he wondered. Sure looked it.

They were surrounded by great big square-ish fields of corn and hay. Here and there along the way there were great big harvesters in the fields cutting it all down. Where there wasn't field there were cows or trees in bright bold reds, oranges and golds. Everything was covered in early morning frost. It was the type of scene you'd expect to see on a postcard in a tourist trap gift shop.

So this was Canada… well they'd definitely seen worse.

As for what Cal had said about the border patrol… well she'd left some things out when Dean had asked. Like the gratuitous cleavage shot she'd given the guy to help convince him to make it quick. Yeah, flirtatious hadn't been the word. Shameless was more like it, absolutely shameless. She had been amazing. Poetry in motion. Hell, she'd put Dean's usual antics to shame… and boy had it worked.

It had been nothing short of a miracle that he'd managed not to laugh when she'd started in with the 'eh's' and taken out the French. God he hoped she'd stick around a while once this vampire business was taken care of.

Something strange had happened since she'd crossed back into Canada. Where before she had been procrastinating about coming home suddenly it was all she wanted to do. She'd rushed through the drive-thru at the coffee shop and had gunned the engine as soon as they were back on the road.

Sweaty, clammy hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. A truck with tinted windows had been following them for hours now. Earl was definitely on their tail. It wouldn't be long now… At least they would have until nightfall before he would try his first attack.

Twenty minutes turned into ten and then she was pulling her little red car onto the gravel drive. Maple trees lined either side… she remembered helping her father plant them… twenty years ago already? God it was strange to feel so small and so old all at the same time.

She was prepared for it, the almost physical blow that now was the first sight of her family home. Nothing she could have said would have prepared Sam and Dean for it though.

The two-story farm house was made of red brick with white gables and wood shutters at every window. It was stunning. Definitely not what they had been expecting… and yet for some reason it just fit. It was just another facet of the contradictions that made up a very complicated Cal.

She startled Dean by picking up the hand that wasn't holding coffee and dropping a set of keys into his palm. "You guys go on ahead. I'll follow you in a minute. There's something I need to do first." What…? Right… her parents were buried here weren't they? As long as she didn't take off on them again. "No Dean, I'm not going anywhere. This is where I was headed, remember?"

He didn't have the heart to argue with her this time. The sadness was back and her edge was gone. The walls had fallen on the ride back and it wasn't any fun to get a rise out of her when pissing her off hurt her too.

"Alright." He wasn't happy about it. Didn't like letting her out of his sight considering her track record… and he wanted to be there if, well if she needed someone to lean on. But she was making it pretty clear that this was something she was doing alone, whether he liked it or not. He just hoped she'd be okay.

"Don't look at me like that Winchester. I can hold my own." Good god, and she thought Sam's puppy dog look was hard to fight off. This guy was looking at her like he could see right through her. "Go start some coffee or something. I'll be back in a few." She was out of the car and halfway across the yard before either man had the time to blink.

"Alright then… well looks like we have some time to kill in that big old house before the beast comes back. Shall we?" And by shall we Dean meant shall we snoop around and see what we can find before she gets back. Hey, he was a curious guy. The way he saw it if Cal didn't want him nosing around in her stuff he should never have handed him the keys. Right?

Turned out they didn't need the keys after all. The front door was already unlocked… and wide open. What the? Had the vampires managed to get here first?

There were lights on in the house and smoke coming out of the chimney cutting through the crisp, cold morning air. Why hadn't they noticed this already? Someone was here alright. "Uh, I think we've got a visitor…" Good old Dean, always one to state the obvious. "Yeah, I think you're right. You think Cal knows?" "I don't know Sam. I don't know." Coming back had very obviously left her shaken. He had no idea if she'd noticed that there was someone already here. Well, she _had _told them to go on ahead without her. Who knew, this could turn out to be fun. Maybe they were finally going to get a little action.

"Alright then. Let's go say hello."

The screen door barely made a sound as he pulled it open. Sam gave him a weird look. Since when are screen doors so quiet? Apparently it was really well oiled. As was their habit they split up to cover more ground. Sam headed up the stairs to check out the upper level leaving Dean the ground floor. Eyes and ears open to every little detail he took it all in… waiting for that first hint of where the intruder was.

The front door opened into a wide living room type space. The stairs leading to the second floor were straight ahead, right next to the hallway that led to the back of the house. The light at the end of the hall told him what he needed to know. That's probably where their intruder was.

There were open doors on either side of the hallway and he carefully scanned the rooms they opened into as he moved ahead towards the light. A powder room, a study and a little sewing room. None of which held anything he ought to be worried about. Then he saw the shadow of a man cross the room where the light was coming from. "Bingo."

The man was lean and lanky with fair hair. He was a little taller than Dean, a little shorter than Sam and he had the sturdy look of a man who was used to hard labor. There wasn't a doubt in Dean's mind. Even barehanded he could take the guy. So he walked into the kitchen as if he owned the place, crossed his arms across his chest and pinned the guy with a hard stare. "Hey! Who the hell are _you_?"

Dean Winchester was itching for a fight. He didn't expect the guy to turn on him with a gun though. Crap. Well, this wasn't good. He was at a distinct disadvantage.

"J'pourrais te demander la meme chose mon grand. En fait, peut etre que j'men fous qui vous etes. J'amerais mieux savoir ce que vous avez fait avec Caitlin."

"Aw, not _you too_." Of all the freaking languages this guy could be speaking… why? _Why_ did it have to be French again?!? I mean, how the hell was he supposed to talk his way out of this if the guy couldn't understand him? What he wouldn't give for Sam to get his butt down here…or better yet: for Cal to get in here.

"Listen dude… I don't know what your damage is or why you're here but, uh, maybe you could try putting the gun down huh?" But he just kept coming closer. Damn it. What he wouldn't give for his own gun. Why the hell hadn't he thought to bring it with him from the car?

The guy was in his face, shouting at him now. Dean, of course, still couldn't understand a word… but he did get a good look at what he was packing. Interesting fact he noticed too. Looked like he'd left the safety on. That would make snatching the thing away from him a whole lot less painful.

In one quick, practiced move Dean grabbed the guy by the hands, twisted him around and pried the thing out of his fingers. Feeling a whole lot better now that _he _was the one packing and the other guy was on the hollow end he straightened and aimed the thing straight at him. "Well. That's better now isn't it? Let's see if we can start this over again, shall we?"

But the guy moved again and suddenly scarecrow boy was armed with the identical twin to the piece Dean had in his hands. Well, he had to give him this much: the guy was fast. Now what?

Then there was the sound of the screen door at the front of the house opening and slamming shut and something clunking loudly onto the floor in the living room. "Caitlin!" Both men called at once, and she came running, followed closely by Sam who had heard the shouting.

"Hey, Cal? You know this guy?"

"Jesus Dean, I can't leave you alone for five minutes to get firewood and you get yourself into trouble." She chastised him.

"Jean-Charles, pour l'amour du Saint Ciel! Laisse tomber. These are the friends I told you I was bringing back with me. Dean and Sam."

Scarecrow let his hands drop to his sides. "You mean you know this freak?" Scarecrow had balls asking that particular question when Dean still had his sights set on him.

"Yeah, I do. It's okay Dean. I called ahead last night to let Jean-Charles know we were coming. He's just airing out the house and stocking the cupboards for me."

Huh, Jean-Charles? What kind of a name was that? Cal and this guy had to be pretty close for him to have keys to the place…he already didn't like the guy.

Was he jealous? Hell yeah!


	19. Chapter 19

_**Chapter 20**_

Oh great. Fabulous. Perfect. As if it wasn't enough that 'caveman' Winchester was rearing his ugly head again, now she had Jean-Charles to deal with too. See, now this was exactly why she preferred to work alone. Men were so _moody_ and sensitive. Oh yeah, she knew how to pick 'em alright.

She'd taken the guns away… _before_ they decided to ignore her and shoot each other in a macho bid for the position of alpha male. Thank God Sammy was a reasonable human being. He'd taken Dean with him to unload the car, helping Cal to buy herself a short reprieve so she could calm JC down some.

"The guy just stormed into the kitchen like he owned the place and asked me who the hell I was… and you weren't anywhere I could see… so I figured a little caution was in order." Jean-Charles explained, shrugging as if his reaction had been the most normal thing in the world. Yeah, that sounded about right. They were both the type to charge in head first, assuming the worst and waiting until it was all said and done to ask the important questions.

"Hey, I heard that!" Dean called from the hallway where he was putting down their bags. "Caution my _ass_. You just remember to mention just _who _drew the gun on _who_. 'Cause all _I _did was ask you who the hell you were." Cal rolled her eyes. Unbelievable!

"I mean just listen to him Cal. The guy's a jerk. You sure you don't want to stay at my place while you're in town instead?" JC was pushing all the wrong buttons, and he was doing it on purpose. "Don't be ridiculous. I don't think Billie would be happy with either of us if I were to drag these two over there. It just wouldn't be fair. Besides, I haven't been home in a really long time. I need to be here." Reason was worth a shot. Not that it usually worked with the guy…

"You're sure, hun?" Had he just called her…? Wonderful. And so it begins…

"Of _course_ I'm sure. You know better than to ask me that."

"Yeah! You heard her. She said she's _sure_." Ugh, Dean needed to stop hollering across the house like that and listening in on conversations that had nothing to do with him.

"Dean, mind your own damned business alright?!"

"Sorry Cal, what was that? Couldn't make it out from all the way over here…" Oh he didn't!

"Ah, Mon espece de…" Oh, the things she would've liked to call the man. But Jean-Charles was giving her that condescending look of his and she just couldn't stand it anymore. Well, friend or not, that's what she got for asking an ex-boyfriend for help wasn't it? Neighbour or no, married to her best friend from high school or no, the guy was still as nasty jealous as they came.

"You know what JC? Thanks for coming over and helping me out like this. I really do appreciate it. Saved me a lot of trouble and all… but it really is time for you to go."

"_I _think I should stick around a while. You know, get a feel for these guys. Billie will want to know that you're safe by yourself out here. All alone with two big strange men." She'd forgotten how annoyingly arrogant the guy was.

"Hey. Did he just call us strange?" Damnit Dean!

"Alright, that's it! C'est assez! I've had enough of this pissing contest crap Go home to your wife Jean-Charles. And you'd better do it now or else you'll have to explain to her how it is that you came over here to give me a hand opening the place up and somehow managed to get yourself into yet another fist fight."

Any patience Cal might have had was gone. She was tired from driving all night, she was moody from coming home after all this time and her stitches were starting to bother her again. The last thing she wanted to do was deal with the gigantic oversensitive egos of two big muscle headed men.

"Oh come on Cal. I don't believe for even one second that you'd pick a fist fight with me. You promised Billie a long time ago you wouldn't hit me. Not after that last time." Oh, he _would_ bring that up wouldn't he?

How could she have thought this was a good idea? How could she have _possibly_ thought that having this guy over in her home even just to bring groceries, air it out and start the furnace, was a good idea? The smug, no good, lowlife piece of… Well, there was only one good way to wipe that self satisfied smile off his face without breaking her promise to Billie.

"Yeah, I did. _Not_ that something like that has ever stopped me before but you're assuming too much. I promised her I wouldn't lay a finger on you again, but this guy… well. _he _didn't. Did he?" A very interested Dean was now standing in the doorway again, Sam right behind him. Both of them suddenly larger than life and every bit as intimidating. Okay, so maybe being the girl sometimes had a few small advantages.

"Hey man, you leaving _already_? Well that's a shame." Dean didn't look or sound at all disappointed. He'd started smiling the second Cal had mentioned the guys wife…and then it grew into that lopsided grin of his when he heard her volunteer him for a fistfight. Would he hurt this guy if he didn't leave when she asked him to? Man, he'd been itching to throw a punch at him ever since he'd seen him rummaging around her kitchen.

Besides, he'd noticed right away how pale and tired Cal looked. The drive had been harder on her than she'd let on, as usual. Dean was willing to bet that her stitches had started to itch too, now that they'd had the chance to start actually healing. So yeah, the girl was bound to be cranky. She needed to get some rest, she was still recovering from some pretty major stuff.

It was just a matter of time before she exploded on someone. He was just glad it hadn't been him for a change. In fact Dean was even willing to give this _Jean-Charles_ guy a bit of a break for taking the heat off. At least… he would as long as the guy grew a brain, took a hint and left them the hell alone.

"Tell you what? I'll walk you out to your car." At this point, it was a much better idea if Dean did it rather than Cal. Friend or not she looked like she wanted to deck the guy on principle alone. Maybe that's what made him back down finally. "Non merci. No thanks man. I think I can find my own way." Jean-Charles sneered before turning back to the reason they were all there and was met with the same angry look she'd always given him when he overstepped his bounds. Yeah, he got the hint alright.

"Okay, okay. Fine! I get it. I'm leaving. You call us if you need anything though, alright Cal?" he told her, hugging her gently and lightly kissing both her cheeks. "Prends soins de toi, la petite." Yeah, that was it. That stupid condescending tone. He meant well. Sure he did… she'd just keep telling herself that.

"Oh for…! I am _not _little! And I have been taking care of myself for over a decade now so just quit with the showing off in front of the guys alright?" The guy had no idea what she did for a living, seriously. "Go home. Tell Billie I say hi and that we'll swing by in a couple of days before heading back out again."

"Sam, Dean." He nodded politely to them both. "Nice meeting you both." Even though he didn't look like he meant it at all. Dean just waved his fingers at him as daintily as was possible and smiled. That's right dude… do the smart thing…take the out and leave. Sammy was pulling out a chair for Cal. Didn't take ol' Chuck long to leave after that. No one was paying attention to him anymore. The fun was gone. Dean followed him out and watched him drive away just to make sure he'd stay gone too.

"Man, and I thought they said Canadians are supposed to be _friendly._" Boy was that particular stereotype wrong. Cal had a fetish for beating the crap out of stuff bigger than her, and the first Canadian he'd met since coming into the country had pulled not one, but _two _guns on him without so much as a hello. Yeah, real friendly folk alright. If this is what her friends were like then he was _not _looking forward to meeting this Earl guy.

Cal was easy to deal with once you figured her out. It was amazing what a long hot shower and a little chocolate could do when she was in a bad mood.

Dean and Sam had both insisted she take a little down time to do whatever it was she needed to decompress. She'd argued of course… but it was for show. God, all she wanted was that hot water on her skin washing away the feel of the road. Now that she was home she could let herself be bothered with it.

Her father's shaving cream and cologne were still in the cupboard, his bathrobe still hanging from its hook behind the door. There hadn't been time on her last visit to do anything but close up the house again. Instead of hurt though and the usual guilt that she'd become used to at the reminder of him she felt comfort.

His scent was everywhere in the small room and his voice filled her head. "Caitlin Marie O'Sulivan you are the strongest person I know. Don't you let life crap on you sweetheart, and if it manages to get a couple of lucky shots in take what I taught you and give it hell." Watch me Dad. Just watch me.

By the time she came back downstairs she felt clean, fresh and was ready to kick some vampire butt. The lowlife hadn't even bothered to try hiding the fact that he'd been following them. That was just fine by her. Bring it on baby, bring it on.

Sam and Dean were sitting at the kitchen table, weaponry spread out pretty much everywhere around them. They were talking quietly as they sharpened machetes that already looked as if they could slice through concrete. Her own tools had been laid out for her on the table between them and there was a huge bowl of peanut M&M's that they kept digging into. Breakfast of champions and hunters, right there.

"I see you've found my chocolate stash." Thank God! It had been days since her last taste of the stuff. Chocoholic withdrawal is never pretty and she'd started feeling the burn.

"Oh, it wasn't hard. There was a bag in every cupboard. I've got to say Cal, as far as bad habits go you have excellent taste." Of course Dean _would_ say something like that considering he was one of the bad habits she'd recently picked up.

"Oh my god Dean, if I didn't know any better I'd think you might have actually given me a compliment. You feeling okay?"

"Never better." He flashed her a smile that told her exactly what was on his mind. The great big horn dog. She couldn't help but smile back.

"Okay, so Earl's been on our tail the whole way. If he's sticking to his usual routine, and he _always_ does, he'll lay low 'till the sun goes down. He'll hit the local bar first for a little fun then come after me."

"And by 'a little fun' you would mean a couple of beers and an appetizer before the main course, right?" Yeah, Dean was nothing but tactful wasn't he?

"Pretty much. Which is why we're going to meet him there and try to lure him back here. There's no way I'm letting him sink his pointy little fangs into anyone else ever again."

Right. Dean was definitely looking forward to killing this thing off… watching Cal parade around in next to nothing to 'lure' it out?

Yeah… not so much.


	20. Chapter 20

_**Chapter 21**_

Cal had one hell of a good time getting ready. Instead of digging into a stale duffel bag for the least wrinkled clothing that might actually be passed of as presentable she had her entire closet to rummage through. No that she needed to… she already knew what she wanted. Tall black boots to hide her knives in for easy access, short black skirt for attention, little white tank top for the same reason and a jean jacket for warmth… and to hide the gun Dean was insisting she should carry with her 'just in case'. Apparently he was going to load it with 'special bullets' whatever _that_ meant.

She had the flexibility to move comfortably no matter the position, her boots were wide heeled and easy to run in when the need arose and her weapons were completely inconspicuous. It was exactly the type of thing one would wear for just such an occasion… hehe. Perfect. At least _she _thought so.

Didn't hurt that she looked good either. Damn good if Dean's reaction had been any indication. He and Sam had been waiting by the front door when she finally came down the stairs. First the jaws dropped…yes both of them. That in itself had been pretty gratifying.

Cal hadn't been feeling that attractive since that little hospital stint she'd suffered. Let's face it, what girl would after what she'd been through? Then she'd caught sight of Dean actually wiping his chin with his sleeve as she hid the knife and zipped up her boot. Oh yes, this little outfit of hers would definitely work for the job at hand.

"Alright. So, uh, where were you planning to hide this then?" Dean asked giving her a good once over with hungry eyes and earning himself a sharp elbow jab in the side from Sam. "Well that depends… what's it loaded with?"

How the ammo was supposed to affect where she hid the damned thing he had _no _idea. Still, he answered her since it was the only way he'd be able to get her to carry it. "Oh, just your regular, run-of-the-mill iron rounds… liberally soaked in dead man's blood." Insert cocky, self satisfied grin here.

The man was amazing. Hadn't she always said he was great? Freaking genius was what he was. It wouldn't kill the damned things, not by any means and it would take a few minutes to actually start to work… but once it did it sure would slow them down. Earl would _never_ see it coming.

Cal took it from him gladly and lifted the bottom of her jacket, revealing the slim holster at her back and slid it firmly into place. "Thanks." The killer dimpled smile had him melting into his own boots, which only served to remind him of the other idea he was about to impose on her.

"Glad you like it 'cause, uh, that'll make the rest of this a whole lot easier." Oh great… he'd been buttering her up for something. What now? "Alright Winchester. Spit it out."

"Okay, Sam and I were thinking that as great an idea as it is to use you as bait…" well, not really. That was the current problem he was facing actually. "... You said the guy was a real jealous freak right?"

"Yeah? Hence the reasoning behind this little outfit of mine…" Oh, he so didn't want to think about the distractingly skimpy deliciousness of it right now.

"Well, we're thinking his reaction time'll be a lot faster if you're not alone. You know, if we provoke him. Bring down the odds that he'll take a bite out of someone before we get to him." Wait… what exactly was being suggested here? "Dude, could you possibly be any more cryptic?"

That's when Sam decided to pipe up and give his big brother a hand…or rather a voice. "What Dean is saying is that the easiest, quickest way for you to make this thing jealous is to go to the bar with a date." Finally! Bless the man for being straightforward and clear. She really didn't have the patience tonight to deal with… hang on… did he say _date_?

"Wait… uh… who…?" She couldn't even manage to get the words out. Cal had expected a lot of things to happen that night…going on a date had _not _been one of them.

"Me_. Definitely_ me." Dean answered her. No way he was going to just sit back and watch Sammy pretend to put the moves on his Cal.

Yup. Of course. It fit perfectly. Her first date with the guy would _of course_ involve a hunt… and pissing off an already angry vampire former one-night stand of hers. It was typical of the way things had progressed between them so far. How was it that she managed to attract all the romantic saps? She wanted to laugh but didn't think it would go over too well. "Okay then. Sounds like a plan. I'm in. Let's hit the road, shall we? I'd like to get there before the vampires do."

It wasn't the yes he'd been hoping for, but it wasn't the 'hell no' he'd expected either. Dean didn't know any better he might have thought Cal was warming up to him. You know… just a little.

* * *

Cal and Dean couldn't have made more of an impact if they'd tried and the best part was that it was all just coming naturally. Sam was actually relieved to see it. Finally. Maybe now he wouldn't have to keep thinking up excuses to leave the room and give them a minute to themselves.

Chez Henry was the strangest place the boys had ever been, and that was saying _a lot_. The sign outside advertised it as a 'restobar'… which was short for what exactly… a rest stop bar? Oh, it had all the usual trimmings their usual haunts had… and some extras that were surprising to say the least.

The bar itself was an old one storey log house converted for the purpose. First thing that caught their eye was the karaoke machine in the far corner of the room which generated simultaneous shivers of disgust in the boys. It's one thing to sing at the wheel in the car, another entirely to do it drunk in front of large crowds of people. There was the usual stretch of bar and stools along one wall not too far from the pool tables and dart boards. The strangest part about it though was the clientele.

Now, they had purposely come early so they could get there before sunset which put their arrival right smack at dinner time. Sam and Dean had not been expecting whole families to be in the place, children, babies and all. Apparently the nightlife around here also served as daytime family entertainment. Guess Cal should have mentioned it before they got there… but it was so much more fun to see their reactions instead.

It was strange for Cal too, walking through and having to wave or say hello to everyone they passed. Most places she went she was either the sexy stranger or the drifter no one knew or cared about. Here there were folks who had grown up with her mother, people she'd gone to school with… even her Dad's old drinking buddies were there. Suddenly luring Earl back home didn't seem like such a great idea. Too many people could get hurt. Too late now though… her choice had been made. What mattered now was how she handled the way things played out.

* * *

Sunset came and went and with it left the families with small children. Then the wildlife started coming out to play. Cal led the boys over to her favorite pool table, already setting up the scene she wanted Earl to see when he came in. Dean knew how to play her game. Coming up behind her he slid an arm around her waist and handed her a wooden rack. "How about you rack 'em up, I'll get us a couple of beers."

Everyone in the place noticed it. Of course they did. They were in a small town and Cal was one of their own. She may not actually spend a lot of time here but they knew her well enough to know she did not bring men home. Not here, not ever. So to see her with this guy, this strange man who was so obviously not a local… There would be talk of it all over town before morning, and that's exactly what she wanted.

Okay, so she was shameless. Did she take advantage of the situation so she could play out a secret fantasy of hers? Yes, yes she did. Oh, she leaned in on Dean just enough to leave him wanting just a little more and then took the rack from him. "Could you make mine a bottle of Keith's?"

Um, yeah. Sure. She could have anything she wanted. Especially if she kept _that_ up. The way he figured it the night would either end with him being the happiest man alive, or wishing he was dead. Either way _this _was making it worth it… every goddamned second of it.

How he made it to the bar was a mystery. If it had been left to Dean he would have stayed standing there with Cal for the rest of time instead. That girl sure knew what she was doing. There was a perky blonde woman behind the bar but he barely noticed her as he ordered the beer. All he could see was Cal leaning over the table in those boots and that skirt. Mm. Too damn bad they were working tonight…

"Where did you find this one Cal? He's a cutie!" What? Had that been the bartender?

"Hands off Franny. That one's _all_ mine!" Cal called back, winking at Dean before taking the first shot. You know… a guy could get used to this kind of thing…public declarations of intent huh? Well, he might just have to call her bluff later…see where it got him.

They were halfway through the first game and Cal was up thirty dollars already when trouble finally found them about a half hour later.

The place was packed and every last body turned their heads toward the jingle of the door when the group of four very large men walked through. Dean's voice was soft, his lips right next to her ear. "That one in the middle him?" "Yeah" she answered, steel blue eyes were locked with Earls nearly black ones. It was go-time.

Raising delicate eyebrows Cal smiled evilly at Earl then slowly let her eyes drift seductively toward the man beside her. Oh, she was gonna make the guy jealous alright. Dean's own hazel eyes reflected all the passion and fire that had been building between them from the very start. "Hey Winchester" it was almost a whisper as she wound her arms up and around his neck. "Let's make this one count." It was a challenge he was more than willing to meet…

Earl couldn't believe what he was seeing. That Caitlin had come back to her home town had not been surprising really. He'd expected her to actually with their history it only seemed fitting that he would finally catch up to her on her family's land where it had all begun so long ago.

That she would bring this _man _with her… well it was just plain insulting. She was _his_ after all, and had no business giving any of herself to anyone _but _him. And the way they were kissing… he was surprised the place wasn't burning down around them. Jealous didn't even _begin _to describe what was going on in his twisted mind.

Cal knew it was coming, knew that making Earl jealous would bring out the violent side in him. Still, the feel of his long fingers grabbing her hair and yanking her back and away from Dean was a bit of a surprise. Dude wasn't usually so bold… at least not in public anyway. Well, now they knew their little plan had worked…on to the fun part: pissing the guy off so he'd follow them.

"Hey Earl! Long time no see. Feeling a bit better than the last time I saw you?"

Well what? _She'd _though it had been pretty clever use of dead man's blood and her overactive imagination to get away… apparently _he _didn't see it in the same light. Everybody was a critic these days.

"_Caitlin. _Wish I could say it's a pleasure to see you again… but that's a little something we'll have to discuss in private isn't it? Say goodbye to your little friend. It's time to go." Earl hadn't let go of her hair and pulled it hard to get her to follow. Cal was _not _impressed.

"Dude! Do you mind? I've just spent the last six months living out of motels and my car. I am way out of practice. Do you have any idea how long it took me to get my hair to look this nice? So do me a favor and get your greasy paws off already!!"

Okay, she was giving him another thirty seconds before letting loose on the guy. Dean was about three feet away from her, hands gripping the pool cue so hard she could hear the wood creaking under the strain. Earl's little buddies were closing in the Winchester brothers and Dean was doing his best to stare them down. He very obviously wanted to kill something, and from the looks of it the quicker the better. Yeah, if she didn't do something fast he'd beat her to the punch. Literally.

She felt another hard yank and Earl actually told her to shut up. Okay. Enough. Your thirty seconds are up pal. Cal was gonna put the hurt on this guy. First things first though… she had to get that damned hand out of her hair right? Hm… wonder if he's still as gullible…had the guy learned anything the last time? Only one way to find out…

So Cal wrapped her fingers playfully around Earl's arm and played the girl card for all it was worth. "Why so rough hun? I'm ready to go… just playing a little hard to get is all." A little fluttering of the eyelashes and she was cuddling herself up to his arm trying hard not to gag. That's right buddy, loosen that death grip of yours…buy into my little act… you _know _you want to. Then suddenly she was free. Her fingers tightened on Earl's arm, twisting it around so that it was pinned behind him and he couldn't move.

There was an excited hum in the air now. Cal's bar fights were legendary here. Some just wanted to see her in action, others were eager for the fight to start so they could join in. Either way everyone just wanted to see that first punch thrown. Cal didn't disappoint.

Fran let out a heartfelt "Oh _great_. Here we go again!" from her spot behind the bar then wisely called out a warning to Cal. "Do not throw anyone into the mirror back here this time girl! I just got the damned thing replaced from the last time you did and it wasn't cheap."

"Aw, come on Fran…this guy is begging for it!" They'd had the same conversations countless time before, although it usually had to do with some local kid trying to hit on her. They always ended the same way though. "Alright. _Fine!_ Do what you have to do… but you're paying for the damage this time, you hear me? Seriously!"

Cal was laughing. That stupid mirror had been broken at least a dozen times already and that was just since Cal had come of legal drinking age. There was just something satisfying about that crashing sound…

Dean, for his part, was tearing up his end of the bar pretty nicely. A soon as he saw her act and get the upper hand on Earl he made his move. Smashing the wide end of his pool cue in the Steroid Cowboy's stomach Dean had him doubled over and gasping for air even as he swung it across to get the guy's buddy in the face. Of course, being vampires and all they didn't stay down like they should have. That was a bit of a problem.

"Cal! Sam? Time to hit the road." Private party at Cal's place tonight. Vampires and hunters by invitation only. "Right behind you man." It was déjà vu all over again when he turned around to find Sam trading punches with the wannabe pro-wrester from the hotel.

They were edging their way to Cal and the door as they fought, ready to grab Cal and make a break for the car as soon as the time was right when all of a sudden there was a loud, sickening crash behind them followed by the sound of shattering glass… a window?

No…wait… a mirror!

Cal had somehow managed to toss Earl halfway across the room, over the counter and into the neat rows of colorful, half empty bottles that were lined up behind it. She had a track record to maintain… a girl had to keep up with tradition didn't she? It just wouldn't have been coming home if she _didn't_ end up responsible for smashing that mirror before putting the brawl on hold and heading home.

"Sorry Franny!" Cal called out shamelessly as she ran for the door. "Yeah, yeah. Sure you are hun! That's what you _always_ say." There may have been snark in her tone but Fran was grinning widely and waving to her as she left. Meh, things had been getting stale around here lately anyway…and no one could shake things up quite as thoroughly as that girl could.

* * *

"So… that was Earl."

"Yup."

They were back in the car, heavily armed and speeding down the back roads trying to keep ahead of the big green truck with tinted windows that was following closely behind them. It took everything Cal had to keep the car on the road and on course. She wanted to pull over and yank the guy out of the truck so she could finish the job she'd started at the bar. Get a grip Cal…you're almost there…

"So tell me, you in the habit of dating men who drag you around by your hair?" Visions of the look she'd had on her face when the s.o.b. had pulled her away were fuelling already white-hot anger. Dean had meant it as a wisecrack and she'd surprised him with her answer.

"Let's just say I've learned the hard way that nice guys aren't usually as nice as they pretend to be." Which was why she preferred the one night stand way of dealing with men. She had her fun, got to enjoy the company of handsome men and took off before their 'character flaws' started rearing their ugly heads. It worked for her.

The hard set of her jaw and mouth told Dean everything he needed to know. Well, _that_ explained an awful lot...and did nothing for his temper. IF Cal came out of this with even so much as a pale bruise _anywhere _on her body because of that freak he would resurrect the damned thing just so he could kill it again himself…over and over again.

"Uh, Cal? Not all guys are like that. You know that right?"

"Yeah Sam, I know." Though her tone of voice said she really didn't believe it. Dean was about to ask her who she thought she was fooling but the jerk in the truck behind them chose that moment to conveniently ram the car from behind.

"Argh!!! _As if _I didn't need more of an excuse to kill you off Earl!" Freaking tailgating vampire from hell.

Hey Sammy, could you hand me my cross bow and stuff from back there?" Better to have it in hand and ready to go when they stopped than to waste time reaching for it later. They didn't have any kind of a head start and the way those freaks behind them were driving she wouldn't be fast enough if she wasn't prepared.

See now most people… most people can do other stuff while driving. Things like drinking coffee, or talking on their cell phones. Dean had seen lots of girls put on lipstick and makeup… _his _Cal? Oh, she could do all those things… and she was also the only person he had ever met who could load an arrow onto a crossbow while speeding down rutted country dirt roads without setting the thing off and hurting someone or running the car off the road. The man didn't need anymore proof than that. This girl… she was a keeper.

* * *

There was a great big maple tree at the back of Cal's parent's property, surrounded by a ring of apple trees and wedged between two large fields. Once upon a time when Cal had been little it had been her favorite place in the world to be. Now the two small plaques mounted on the trunk of the maple announced it to all as her parents final resting place. There was no better place to avenge their deaths.

Cal didn't even bother with the driveway this time. No, instead she swung the little red car off-road and drove right over her lawn ditching it where the yard met field. "Okay, let's go!" Shutting the door was just a waste of time at this point. They started running as soon as their booted feet met ground. Cal was just barely in the lead crossbow slung over her shoulder and her Dad's machete in hand.

She could feel Sam and Dean right behind her, could hear the loud squishing of their boots in the wet mud and their labored breath as they ran with her. They just had to make it to those trees… just a couple more feet… then that Earl was _hers._

Legs pumping, muscles burning from the strain she charged ahead through clouds of mist her own warm breath formed before her in the cold night air. Then suddenly muddy earth tuned into slippery grass again and they were there. "Up. Cal, up in the trees. We need to slow them down some before we get hands on with them!"

She didn't know which one of them shouted it, wasn't really important anyway. All that mattered was that it was a good idea. Cal grabbed the first branch she saw and hauled herself up and into the nearest apple tree. The vampires came charging in and all hell broke loose.

The sound of gunfire filled the air as Sam and Dean unloaded everything they had on them. Cal could tell that something wasn't right though… they were one bad guy short…Where the hell was Earl?

Sam was down on the ground facing off with wrestler dude. He was taking one hell of a beating and giving it right back too. How long until the coated rounds start to work? A minute or two… five maybe? Didn't seem to matter too much to Sam at all. One look at him and Cal saw he'd made the choice. It was taking too long so he pulled out his machete and took matters into his own hands.

Dean had jumped… wait… was that the Steroid Cowboy? Oh my God it was. Okay, Earl or no she needed in on that action. She barely felt the scrape of bark on the sensitive skin of her hands and scratches all over any exposed skin from whipping leaves on her way down. She only had eyes for Dean who even now was dodging a big meaty fist that went whizzing past his nose and throwing all his weight into the guy from behind his own fists.

She should have just stayed in the tree. By the time her feet had touched ground Dean had his own machete out and Cowboy had started to loose steam. All she'd managed to do was reveal her hiding spot. To make matters worse in the heat of the commotion none of the hunters had taken the time to get a good look at the third vampire. So far he'd just been 'the other one' That had been a huge mistake on their part and it was one they would regret soon enough.

Even now Cal didn't bother giving the guy a second thought. All she saw was Earl, who had appeared opposite to her and was moving in on Dean. Dark evil eyes in a pretty face framed by perfect hair and the fangs that had ended countless lives… her parents included… and now he was headed for the one man who had managed to give her hope? Oh, she didn't think so. No _way_, not gonna happen.

"Dean! Get _down!" _She aimed as the shout left her lips. The poor guy just barely had enough time to turn and fall to the ground before she fired the damned thing toward and past him. One well aimed shot and Earl was once again impaled straight through…only this time instead of being stuck to a motel room wall he was firmly rooted to her parents tree. There was only one goal from that point on: End it. Now.

Cal didn't even spare the Winchesters a second thought, just kept moving forward toward the source of all her pain and loss. He'd wrapped his hands around the thin bit of wood and was gingerly trying to pull it out and get free. Oh no, no way! Dropping the cross bow she ran to Earl machete in hand, reaching behind her for the gun Dean had insisted on. Murder was in her eyes.

Just as she was about to fire a round or two… or ten into Earl a familiar voice rang clearly in the din of the fight. "I wouldn't do that if I were you la petite. Pense-y meme pas." Jean-Charles' lanky frame stood poised about a foot away from her left side. He was armed with the pistols she'd taken away from him in her kitchen that morning and had them aimed menacingly straight at her. "Put them both down hun. You're not going to need them anymore."

She didn't see any other choice. He was too far for her to disarm him, Sam and Dean were still in the thick of battle and as fast as she was it still wasn't possible to outrun a bullet. The only option here was to toss both the gun and the knife to the ground at her feet.

"So does Billie know you're out here JC?" Maybe she could distract him.

"Oh she might… she might not. Who knows anymore?" Now that didn't sound at all like the girl she knew. Billie had always been the most curious person she knew.

"I'm not really sure what that means Cryptic Boy but I _am_ sure that she'll be plenty pissed off when she finds out you've been pointing those bad boys at me."

"Oh, I don't think so Cal." He hissed nastily showing off his unpleasant second set of sharp ugly teeth.

"C'est pas mal difficile pour elle en ce moment. It's pretty hard to get mad at someone when you're dead, isn't it?"

Hold on… he said dead. Dead? Billie? No. He wouldn't have dared.

But he flashed her another one of his infamous condescending smiles and she knew it was true. Damn. He did it. He killed the closest thing to a friend she had left.

"Well then." She was all ice and deadly calm. "Guess that blows the promise I made right out of the water doesn't it? I'll kill you myself for this JC. I hope you know that."

Cal watched with contempt as the man she had thought was her friend tucked one of his weapons into his waistband so he could reach over and help Earl free himself. Following the elder's lead JC took her out into the darkness of the field. They were leading her back around the circle of trees toward the farmhouse. Crap! This had _not _been a part of her original plan.

Dean and Sam were still fighting away with Cowboy and Wrestler dude when she heard rather than saw the first one go down with a loud sluicing sound and a heavy thunk as the body hit the ground. "I've got one down!" Dean shouted hoarsely turning to his brother. "The Steroid Cowboy won't be hauling anyone over his shoulder ever again.

Sam shoved an elbow into the wrestler's face to buy himself some space to move then turned and swung his machete taking the guy down once and for all. "Yeah, well make that two down. This one's seen his last fight."

That's the stuff alright. Way to go boys!! Wouldn't be long now. They'd notice she was missing and would come looking for her and when they did Earl and JC would be toast. Cal didn't realize it but she was holding her breath at the sound of Sam and Dean's frantic footsteps as they searched for signs of her. She heard nothing more though because just as Dean started calling her name something cold and heavy smashed against the back of her head and knocked her out cold.

* * *

What in the _hell _was going on? How had they started out with three hunters and four vampires and ended up with two of each instead? Cal was missing… so was Earl. That was already pretty weird because both Sam and Dean had been pretty sure they saw Cal nail the guy into the big maple with an arrow. And the other vampire? Gone too.

They'd split up to comb the grounds around the trees. Maybe she'd left a clue or something to tell them were she'd gone… hell at this point Dean wasn't even sure whether the vampires had her or the other way around. There was just no telling with Cal. If anything that made the worry worse.

"Hey Sam! You find anything yet?"

"No… nothing yet."

Damn it Cal… where the hell did you go _this_ time? Even when she was in plain sight she was disappearing on him. Trying to convince himself she was okay was not working he sure was trying though.

Yeah, that's right. She'd be the first to tell you that she can hold her own… take care of herself and all that crap…

"How about over there. You got anything Dean?"

"I've got nothing but the headless horseman here." And a whole heaping load of frustration.

"You think maybe she climbed up another tree?" It was a possibility. Sure it was grasping at straws… but it was _something_ wasn't it?

"Cal? Cal!" Dean started shouting her name, hoping she'd answer from somewhere nearby… the field maybe? "Caitlin! Where the hell are you hiding woman?!"

She wasn't answering. Oh god… what if she was hurt…or worse? No, no, _no! _Hell no. He didn't even want to consider it. No, it would take more than a couple of pissed off stalker vampires to finish off Caitlin O'Sulivan off.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam stumble over something and heard the faint clinking sound of metal on metal. "Uh, Dean… I found something."

There, at Sam's feet lay a machete and a compact little handgun. Her crossbow lay empty in the grass a little farther away.

"Oh well that's just freaking _perfect_! She's unarmed. They've got her, they took her god only knows where and she had no way to fight them off." It was official, Cal had managed to get herself into some serious crap… yet _again_.

Dean wasn't worried anymore, he was terrified


	21. Chapter 21

_**Chapter 22**_

Cal wasn't unconscious long, although apparently 'not long' had been long enough. When she finally came to she was tied tightly to a chair in the middle of her parent's kitchen. The mother of all headaches was beating its way through her skull and her stitches were burning painfully. Great Cal, just _great_… and you thought waking up in the hospital attached to a bag of blood was bad. This… this was definitely a new low.

Hunting was supposed to be fun. At least it was to Cal. There were times though… few and far between as they were… there were times when the life just _sucked_. Being hit in the head, tied to a chair and left to the mercy of a couple of asshole vampires definitely qualified as one of those times. This was _not _her idea of fun. "That lowlife, bloodsucking swine is going to pay for this." They both would.

Well, it could be worse. At least they were leaving her alone for the time being and she had the advantage of being in her own house which meant that Sam and Dean weren't far. Heck, they were probably outside right this minute scoping the place out. How long would it take them to find her in here…a couple of minutes maybe? Now, if it weren't for the fact that her hands were duck-taped behind her she might have been able to reach one of the knives she'd hidden in her boots. There had to be something she could use to cut through the stuff and get herself the hell out of that chair.

Big feet had tracked muddy footprints all over the place and half her cupboards were open. Apparently the pointy toothed freaks got hungry and decided to make themselves right at home. Well, better the cupboards then her neck right? Oh, nice… the TV was on in the living room, the sound blaring loudly across the house. Wonderful. Party night at Cal's place… the cocky bastards. Didn't they realize the Winchesters were nearby?

Come to think of it maybe entertaining these guys wasn't such a bad idea after all… in fact she couldn't _wait_ for the boys to come join the party. Who needs a bar brawl when you could throw a vampire killing themed house party. So, where the heck were those two anyway? They weren't usually the type to leave a girl hanging…

Cal wasn't the type to just sit and wait around. Nope, she was all action. A quick look around made it pretty clear that there was nothing for her to free herself with. Okay then… let's make things a little easier for the boys then shall we? Sucking in a deep breath she started to shout at the top of her lungs. "DEAN! SAM! I'M…" and got cut off midway by a very large hand closing over her mouth to shut her up. Well, wasn't _that _a nice surprise.

"Although I doubt you have enough common sense to listen considering the stunts you've pulled so far, I suggest you keep your big mouth shut." Oh, wonderful. The man of the hour himself. What she wouldn't do for a free hand and a sharp knife… Given her current situation that was nothing but wishful thinking.

Still, Earl was not going to get away with roughing her around. No, Cal opened her mouth as wide as she could and bit down hard on the fingers that covered it instead. A girl had to keep her dignity, didn't she? Sure, it earned her a hard smack on the back of her already sensitive head. As far as she was concerned it was worth it. She'd get her payback later.

"Well if it isn't Mr. Perfect." She sneered at him. "Hey, you've got a little blood on your shirt…wonder where _that _could have come from?" Actually he had _a lot _of blood on his shirt, his pants and even in his hair. Satisfying, knowing she'd been the one who had put it there.

"You think you're funny do you? You're lucky there's not nearly as much as the last time otherwise the only food I'd be eating would be _you_." What had she seen in this guy anyway? Okay, so the guy had beautiful hair, bedroom eyes and a velvety voice… and, er, nice _assets_. But there was no mistaking the evil in those eyes or the controlled way he moved as if he was trying hard to keep himself in check. There should have been warning bells from the second she first set eyes on him.

"Don't kid yourself Earl. We've already been there a few times haven't we? And look where it got you… Let's see the first time I nailed you to the motel room wall and beat the crap out of you. The second time you came down with a bad case of, um, shall we call it food poisoning? Tsk, tsk. Nasty stuff that dead man's blood, isn't it? So that makes this what, number three? Look at you. You're a mess bleeding all over the place like that." Okay, so maybe it wasn't such a great idea pissing the guy off like that considering her slightly vulnerable situation. It was just so…gratifying putting that look of shock on his otherwise perfect face. "Take a hint dude, I'm not your freaking appetizer."

Cal knew what he was going to do even as he raised his hand above his head. Still she was used to being the one throwing the punches, not receiving them. So the feel of the back of his hand meeting the side of her face took her by surprise. Damn it! That was the second time the guy had managed to get away with it. The taste of blood was the last straw. She may not be able to fight back but she sure as hell wasn't going to shut up either.

"Wow, now _that _was _impressive_. Takes a great big strong man to hit a girl half his size tied down to a chair doesn't it? Fetch me some smelling salts… I may just swoon."

"I told you she had a mouth on her." Ah, so there was Jean-Charles. He had a bag of her M&M's in hand and was reaching into the fridge for a beer. Good, she had a thing or two she wanted to say to _him _too.

"Hey, JC. Take a hike. Find out where her little friends are. Cal and I need to have a _private_ conversation that's long overdue." Darn it, that was going to screw with her distraction plan.

"Yeah, sure. I could go for a snack. This chocolate crap just isn't cutting it for some reason. Wanna beer before I go?"

Earl just pointed and JC practically ran out the door. That's right JC. Run like the freaking chicken you are.

* * *

Turned out that Earl didn't really want to talk… surprise, surprise. No, dude wanted to pick up where they'd left off that night… before the whole unfortunate cross-bow/beating incident had happened months earlier.

Cold fingers trailed across her shoulders as he pushed her jean jacket down her arms making her skin crawl. Resorting to the only weapon available to her she threw every insult she could think of at him but he wasn't listening. The pervert was behind her now trailing kisses down her neck as he hiked her skirt up her thighs and got a good look at her cleavage. She'd never wanted to throw up so badly in her life.

He had just started to pull up the edge of her tank top when all of a sudden the door flew open. "Hey!" Oh thank _freaking GOD_! Cal didn't need to see the door to know who it was. Dean's angry voice had never sounded so sweet. Earl shot up and lunged, but Dean was ready for him. There was the familiar whooshing sound of an arrow soaring through the air and a loud thump as the vampire was once again pinned to the wall. Seriously, you'd think the guy would have learned by now to watch out for those things… or at the very least to move out of the way.

"You okay?" Dean's voice asked from somewhere behind her, warm fingers gently touching hers before cutting her free. Was he kidding? Things got better the second the door came crashing open. Not yet trusting her own voice she nodded reaching down to pull out the long thin knives she'd hidden in her boots. Oh, she was a little shaky but that would get better in just a minute.

Earl had managed to pull the arrow out just enough so that he wasn't stuck anymore. Apparently he was learning a little something from experience. Dean didn't even blink, just raised his firing arm and hit him with another one. The vampire was ready for it this time. He lunged toward Cal, fangs bared. She heard Dean's curse as the arrow whizzed right past him and everything around her slowed. Crossing blade over blade she readied herself to finish it even as Earl fell on her and they tumbled to the floor.

She heard another crash and vaguely acknowledged Sam and JC fighting their way into the room. There was no time to see what was going on. Only Earl and death mattered now. It was time. That he was above her only made things easier. One quick move had her legs wrapped around his middle and then she was flipping them both over until she was straddling him. His shark like eyes went wide with surprise as the knives made contact with his throat. A graceful sweep of her arms and it was over. Earl lay lifeless and headless beneath her.

There wasn't time for what she had just done to sink in… another loud crash and a string of loud curses in three different voices sounded behind her. Turning she watched as the scene played out in slow motion. Dean grabbed JC with both hands, pulled him out of his fight with Sam who was now down on the floor and shoved him into a wall. Closing her eyes she just couldn't watch. JC hissed loudly. Sam watched as he went for Dean's throat. Now Dean was the one being pulled out of the way and Sam was stepping into the vampire's path, machete at the ready. A swish of blade as it cut through the air and a loud, dull thunk as Jean-Charles hit the floor in pieces. It was finally over.

Cal smiled as Dean knelt next to Sam checking to see with his own eyes that his brother was okay. Things were finally as they should be. Unnoticed she silently walked out the door. There was one last thing she needed to do.

* * *

The short walk to the maple tree seemed longer this time. Maybe it was what she knew was waiting for her when she got there that made it seem that way. As she walked through the muddy, empty field the winds picked up around her. Sometime during the fight that night the sky had clouded over and now a few soft flakes began to fall. Finally the running was over, the seasons were changing.

The maple stood proudly before her as she knelt before her parent's plaques. "Hi Mom… Dad. I, uh, know it's been an awfully long time since the last time I came up but… well I had something to take care of first." Fisting the hilts of the knives that had ended Earl's life she pushed the sharp ends into the cold earth until her fingers met grass. "I…I don't know if you have any way of knowing this but… I wanted you to know… Earl is dead. It's over."

Cleansing tears coursed down her cheeks, washing away the bitter feelings that had filled her for so long. Maybe… just maybe her parents had found peace, and each other again at last. She stood when she heard the footsteps, pulling the knives out of the earth and leaning them up against the tree.

There was no fighting it this time. When Dean wrapped his arms around her she simply lay her head on his shoulder and surrendered.


	22. Chapter 22

_**Chapter 23**_

It was over. That bastard Earl was dead. Sure, Cal had screwed up and got herself into some serious trouble… but that was part of the hunting gig. She was just glad that she'd had Sam and Dean along for the ride this time.

God, it had been intense… bloody and dirty. Just the way she liked it. And her personal favorite part was that the good guys had won. Her family had been avenged. Now all that was left was to move on. For once she was looking forward to that part.

She'd made a few major decisions lately. The most important of which had been what to do with the Winchester boys once it was all said and done. It was tough. Probably the toughest one she'd ever made… but she had to go. To stay would only intrude on something… something that shouldn't be tampered with.

They needed each other those two and Cal just wasn't the Yoko Ono type. When Sam and Dean finally got the best of that demon… well she hoped Dean would come and find her. Until then... until then she needed to go on her merry way and let them do what they needed to do.

* * *

The drive back to Bobby's was much different than the ride up. They were all wide awake for one, and still riding on the adrenaline rush that always came from a successful hunt. Funny how no one was arguing about music choice anymore either now that the tension was gone.

Cal put her acting skills to good use during the ride. Neither Sam or Dean had any idea of what was to come.

Caitlin O'Sulivan drove away from Bobby's place in the middle of the night leaving nothing behind but memories. There were no goodbyes, no arguments, no kind words and no tears. In true Cal fashion she vanished quietly into the night as Dean slept and disappeared without a trace.

Sam was the first to wake just before dawn. He didn't need to be psychic to know she was gone. It wasn't a surprise to see that her bed hadn't been slept in and her little red Mustang was gone.

Bobby poked his scruffy head out his bedroom door at the sound of Sam's soft footsteps in the hall. "She's left, hasn't she?" The younger man could only nod sadly. "Shit. Better get some coffee on. Dean's not gonna take this well." Yeah. Hopefully he wouldn't clue in until _after _the fist cup…

Dean finally trudged his groggy behind downstairs at around a quarter past eleven. There was a cup ready and waiting for him when he came into the kitchen… _strange_. Bobby's place had always had a strict 'serve your own damned self' policy. Something was up… Still, this was one man who never turned down a fresh cup of coffee when it was gifted to him. So he took it gratefully and sat down at the table ready to wait for the caffeine to kick in and wake him up.

He was halfway through that first cup when he realized that he was sitting in his boxers and a t-shirt at a table in a grungy kitchen littered with dishes and junk…with two other men. First thought was that it was no wonder Sammy didn't pick up much. The guy was wearing plaid flannel pajama pants for God's sake. That particular thought was quickly followed with a surprised grunt when he got a good look at Bobby. Now, Dean didn't even begin to care about fashion in any way… but there were limits even for him. Come on… bright red long johns? What, was the guy's last name 'Walton' or something?

Neither of them said a word to him. Not a good morning, no smart ass comments about his sleeping late. Not a freaking sound. Not even a grunt…and…Cal wasn't up yet. She must've been exhausted for him to beat her to the coffee pot. He never thought he'd see the day she could out-sleep him.

"So, looks like She-Ra really needed her beauty sleep huh?"

Okay. That look. Sammy gave him _that look. _The one he used on grieving families and stuff. Silence… and stares. What the hell? He was so not awake enough for this crap.

"So, is anyone planning to tell me what the hell is going on?"

He had this sneaking suspicion that they knew something he didn't and it was not a good feeling. It had to do with Cal didn't it? That had to be it… lately he'd had way too many moments like these and they always had to do with _her_.

"Oh God, she didn't…" he got up suddenly and ran toward the window. "_Tell _me she didn't take my baby for another joy ride!" Oh, but it was worse than that. So very much worse. His Black Betty of a Metallicar was still sitting in the driveway shining proudly in the midday sun. The sleek little red Mustang that had been sitting next to it the night before was gone.

"No…she, uh, didn't take the Impala Dean."

He whipped around suddenly _very _awake… and mad as all hell.

"Where the hell is she?"

"We don't know." Bobby answered, gruff voice unnaturally emotional. Oh hell _NO_. She did _not _just walk out on him again.

"Sam…?" If anyone had _any _idea where to start looking it would be Sam.

But all he got was a shrug. "Dean, she took off in the middle of the night while we were all sleeping…"

"You've _got _to be _kidding me! _After ALL THAT… she just ups and _TAKES OFF?!?" _Still nothing from the other two men. Well, it was official. The woman was most definitely trying to kill him, and she may well have managed it this time.

They'd expected him to rage, yell, freak out… hell at the very least they'd expected him to swear like a sailor. But Dean surprised them by calmly sitting down at the table to finish his coffee. He'd gone from hot to cold in an instant. This wasn't good.

"Dean?" He was just sitting there, sipping away at his coffee.

"Hm?"

"You okay man?" The bland look that had been directed at Sam changed into a cocky grin that didn't really hide the hurt beneath it.

"Sure Sam. Of course I am. Who needs her anyway?" The last person he expected to fool with all this was Sam…but maybe, just maybe he could convince _himself _that this was how he really felt about it.

"Hey, listen… we could go after …." All his little brother wanted to do was make it better. Didn't he realize there was no better for this? She'd always be running, and he'd always be chasing after her. If this was what she wanted than he was going to give it to her.

Holding up a hand and cutting him off with a death glare Dean interrupted him mid-sentence. "No. Enough Sam… I've had enough." She'd made her choice and now he was making his.


	23. Chapter 23

Alright, I'm done with the boys for now... I don't own them and I've finally finished this fic so Kripke and the CW can have Sam and Dean back...

Hope you all have enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

I've left it rather open ended for two reasons... the first being that I had so much fun with Cal and Dean as characters that I wanted to leave the option of sequel wide open. The second being that...well I figured that whatever I wrote past what I did couldn't possibly come close to what your imaginations will come up with to fill in the blanks. You'll see what I mean... : D

Pleas... Let me know what you think of the end and thank you for reading!

_**

* * *

**_

_**Chapter 24**_

A month had come and gone since she'd left Dean behind.

The first few days she'd hardly slept. Partly because she spent them on the road in her car, and partly because she'd half expected him to come after her when he realized she was gone. Of course, he hadn't.

The first place she'd gone was back to the farmhouse. No way she was going to miss Billie's funeral and Cal needed to close her parents place up again anyway.

It had taken a week. Packing up the clothes and things she wanted to take back with her, emptying the fridge and cupboards of anything perishable and giving the place one last good once over.

Funny… she'd thought that the hardest part of coming back would have been the memories of her parents. Instead it was Dean. Everywhere she went he and Sam followed. Oh, they weren't actually _there_. Not in person anyway. She couldn't count the amount of times she'd turned around expecting him to be sitting quietly at the kitchen table cleaning his guns with Sam across from him eyes glued to their laptop. Two days of looking over her shoulder was enough for her. As soon as she'd finished with the house she hightailed it over to the bar.

The place was empty when Franny watched her walk in just after lunch. "Well this is a nice surprise. Caitlin O'Sulivan blessing my bar with her presence twice in as many weeks. Don't suppose you've got a big ass mirror hiding somewhere behind that skinny little frame of yours, do you?" God, she had to start coming back more often. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to be around people who recognized her. Maybe roots weren't such a bad thing after all.

"Nah, just a big ass." Fran's throaty laugh warmed Cal's heart. Yeah, she definitely needed to do this more often.

"Speaking of big ass mirrors…I, uh, picked something up for you on my way back up here." Long, graceful fingers slid a picture across the bar. "Drove by this estate auction in upper New York state and… well it was just screaming out: Franny."

Fran's jaw dropped. The picture… it was of Cal taking a picture, or rather Cal's reflection in a very wide mirror with the words 'Chez Henri' arched gracefully across the middle. A smaller 'Fran's bar' was etched just below the ornate black and red letters. "You didn't!"

"Promise I won't break this one."

She'd known it would be a hit.

Cal spent the rest of the week in the room above the bar staying just long enough to go to Billie's funeral and to help Fran mount the mirror when it was delivered. She left the same as always, late one night after buying a round at the bar. Quietly and unnoticed while everyone was distracted. .

Once that particular business had been taken care of there was only one place left for her to go. Home. Her _real_ home. A small two bedroom apartment in New York city owned by one Mary Jane Watson. Hey, she had a thing for Spiderman. Nothing wrong with that, right? It was probably a good thing she'd left the Winchesters behind… they would never have let her hear the end of it. Yeah, sure Cal. You just try and keep convincing yourself of that. Leaving may have been the right thing to do but that didn't stop it from hurting so badly it was almost a physical ache.

After spending the better part of the last year on the road she was more than a little sick of seeing those little yellow lines roll by. Her poor little car still had her little war wound from that big nasty green truck. Stupid Earl had smashed in half of her fender. "T'sokay baby. First stop after unloading'll be the shop. You'll be good as new in no time."

She'd walked the last three blocks to her apartment and hadn't left it since.

There was no way for Dean and Sam to track her down here. Yeah, they knew the alter-ego name she'd used from the hotel and she didn't doubt they had her plate numbers too so they could feasibly look for her using that…but they had no idea she had a state-side apartment or even that she had any ties to New York. There was no reason for them to look for her here, or even at all anymore so she could afford to take a little time. She was going to hibernate for the winter… recharge her batteries… put the hunt aside for a little while so she'd be fresh when she went ahead and gave it another go. Okay Cal, be honest with yourself. More like you need a good long chocolate and chic-flick binge to get over _that man_. Oh well, sometimes a girl can't help but…you know…be a _girl_.

So it had been a month now and yeah, Cal had done a lot of the devastated girl thing. Oh, it hadn't taken her long to become disgusted with herself and when she did… well she'd hauled her butt over to the nearest bar she knew of, sat herself down to drink herself stupid, pick up and forget. It didn't work of course, but she did come out of it with a part-time bartending job to distract her until she was ready to hit the road again.

It was the graveyard shift which suited her night-owl lifestyle just fine, and only three nights a week so it didn't interfere with the hibernation thing. The extra cash kept her in chocolate and got her a new cell phone. Funny how the new toy didn't make her feel much better…

Mostly she spent her days just as she was: in pajamas and having different variations of the same conversation with herself over and over again. She was _not _moping around the house…just…um…taking a well deserved rest. Yeah, that was it. Sure it was.

That's the perfect excuse for why you're sitting on your kitchen counter in Dean's AC/DC t-shirt and a pair of cartoon character cotton pajama pants porking your way through your second pint of Ben&Jerry's New York Super-Fudge Chunk of the night. Yeah Cal, you're a _fine _example of denial aren't you?

Maybe… maybe she ought to just suck it up and pack up her car again… maybe she'd been wrong about leaving like that…hell, maybe she just needed to dive into a good messy hunt again to get her mind off this whole broken-hearted deal.

The broken record was about to start again when she heard the phone ring from the building's front door. Good. A distraction. Pizza guy was here. Thank God for all-night restaurants or else she'd never have been able to feed her midnight cravings.

"Uh, hi. Pizza for MJ Watson?"

Hang on. That wasn't right. Cal had been using her own name since coming back. Hadn't seen any danger in it considering she'd put the hunting on hold. And there was something familiar about that voice….

Hanging up the phone she ran for the TV and flipped it to the channel to which security had programmed the front door camera. Sure enough a tall shaggy haired man stood in costume holding a pizza box, face turned away from the camera. No. It couldn't possibly have been Sam. Dean would have been with him… wouldn't he?

Great. Now you're seeing things. You are loosing it girl. And the name thing? He'd probably read the nameplate next to the buzzer number. Jeez, just let the poor kid up already.

When the phone rang a second time she didn't even bother listening to the voice, just apologized and rang him up. Tomorrow she'd give her notice at the bar and pack up. This was the last straw. Only way to beat the slump she was in was to jump right back into what she did best. Time to get your head back into the game Cal. You're getting pathetic.

The knock came a lot faster than she expected considering she was twenty floors up. There had been just enough time to hang up and flip the channel back to the action flic she'd been watching when the heavy bangbangbang-ing of fist-on-door broke the quiet. Good god, that idiot delivery guy was going to leave a dent in the freaking door. Temper flaring she marched over to the door ready to tear a strip out of the kid. She might be a wreck but anger she could do.

"Listen you little punk, as happy as I am that you managed to deliver my damned pizza in record breaking time for a change I do _not _appreciate you trying to break my door down in the process…" But… the guy wasn't holding a pizza. No, actually the guy wasn't holding anything at all. Well, unless you counted the door which he was now firmly pushing open the rest of the way as he stormed in.

A very determined, leather coated Dean Winchester slammed her door closed and bolted it shut behind him. "So _Mary Jane_, I've got to say: you are one tough chick to find. Oh, yeah just a quick question before we start the fighting stuff we're so good at: you planning to stick around for this or am I going to have to tie you down…? Because I _will_ if I have to." Alright… the guy was angry. She could understand that. What she _didn't _get was how the hell he got to be standing in the middle of her living room.

"Um… Dean? What are you doing here?"

"I think that's pretty obvious."

"No, not really."

Was she for real? Did she really not know what he was doing there?

"Jesus Cal, I've just spent _weeks_ hunting you down! And all you've got for me is 'what are you doing here?"

Well, now that he mentioned it…she did have another little something for him… and she surprised him with it by sliding her arms under his jacket, around his waist and doing exactly what she'd been dreaming of ever since she'd left him.

He'd expected a lot of things coming up here… and as usual what he'd expected hadn't even come close to what he got. Never one to turn a kiss down, especially not one like _that_, he gave her everything he had.

"Is that my shirt?" Funny the things you notice in the heat of a moment, isn't it? Cal just laughed against his mouth. God, he'd missed that sound.

Pulling away from the kiss he framed her face in his hands and considered her seriously before speaking. When he did they were the words that had been beating a steady tempo through his head the whole time he'd searched for her.

"Listen, if you really don't want me here. If you really don't want to be with me I'll go right now and you'll never have to set eyes on me again… It'll be like ripping my own arm off but I'll do it."

"No. Dean, don't go."

"Yeah, well if I stay… you've got to know that I'm not leaving… and I've got to know you're not going to either."

"Absolutely."

Damn it, he knew she was going to argue…"I'm serious Cal. No more taking off in the middle of the night, or in the middle of a hunt or anywhere else for that matter."

"Dean, I just said yes. I want you stay, I'm not going anywhere…except maybe hunting. With you… and Sam."

He'd been so ready to fight for it… to argue her until he was blue in the face just to convince her that this was the right. That _they_ were the right. It didn't register that she was saying she wanted it too.

"I don't _want _to leave Cal…and when I do want _you _to come with us. God, do you have any idea what it felt like to wake up and find out you'd just left like that? No goodbye, no 'nice knowing ya'. Not even a 'thanks for helping me out and saving my ass'. Damn it, it felt worse than dying and trust me I know from experience. Don't… just… please don't tell me to go."

Oh, there was no chance of that happening. None whatsoever. Not now, and she didn't think ever again. Since he wasn't really listening though…well she couldn't resist playing with him just a tiny bit more.

"So, uh, how exactly did you manage to find me?"

Well, what? She was curious… and the answer would most definitely be good. He'd spent the last month tracking her down with next to nothing to go on. This was definitely a story she wanted to hear.

"How did I…?" Apparently he hadn't expected that one. "Well, let's see. First there was the international internet search for Caitlin Marie O'Sulivan. God we must have hit over two thousand public records sites in Canada and here. We got a whole lot of nothing. Then we went back up to your parent's place." She arched a surprised brow at him. Oh really? "Don't look at me like that. _Yeah_, we did. You think you invented fake ID? And that Fran chic? I've had an easier time getting information from angry dead people. She wouldn't give us even a clue as to where you'd gone."

"That's because she didn't know."

"Yeah well, she could have been a little friendlier about it. I don't exactly enjoy being escorted out of the place at gunpoint. Thought you Canadians were supposed to be _friendly_."

Hm, well _that's _an awfully dark look. It'd be worth going back again and asking Franny what had happened.

"Anyway… we started running the few names we knew of that you'd used so far and your license plates. Took freaking _forever_ and we hit like a dozen different dead ends in seven different states… until this mechanic called me back about a little red Mustang that had the plates Sam had asked him about…that Caitlin O'Sulivan had picked up just that morning. It wasn't a far stretch from there."

Impressive. Dude definitely was getting brownie points for this. Not that he really _needed_ them at the moment… but she was feeling generous so he was getting some anyway.

"So… where's Sam then?"

"Took the car back to the motel."

"Good, give him a call and tell him not to wait up. You're not going _anywhere_ for a good long while."

Hm… really? That sure sounds promising…"Meaning?"

"Meaning… shut up and kiss me Winchester. We've got lost time to make up for… and I plan on doing it in as many of the best ways possible."

Well, that was his answer right there wasn't it? Dean Winchester is not a guy who needs to be told twice.

"Sounds like a challenge…" he growled out, pulling her in as close as he could get her.

"That's because it _is._"

With those words all thoughts of phone calls, brothers and even hunting were forgotten. Only the challenge remained.

"In _that_ case…" he said as he slid big warm hands up her back under his t-shirt. "…let's see if I can find a little more of that French of yours…shall we?"


End file.
